Never Trust a Rebel(32)

‘She deserves better.’

‘Is that not for the lady to decide?’

Drew began to pace up and down the room. He pushed his fingers through his hair.

‘She has grown up cossetted and petted and with such high expectations. For the past three years she has been engaged to Reverson, a brilliant match. She will move in court circles, the very highest society and she will shine there, the brightest star. What am I, compared to a viscount’s son? How long would she be content to be the wife of a mere baronet, going to town once a year—twice perhaps, when funds allow.’

A wry smile put Sir Edward’s serious look to flight.

‘Do you think your fortune will weigh with her, any more than your past? From what I have seen of the lady she is quite capable of knowing what will make her happy.’

‘No.’ Drew shook his head. ‘If she decides not to marry Reverson it must be a clear, logical decision. She must not be swayed by any foolish romantic notions.’

‘And if she decides not to marry him? Will you then offer for her?’

The vision of Elyse’s stricken countenance flashed into his mind again. He had put an unbridgeable chasm between them. The brief burst of elation he had experienced when his father had told him of the pardon had gone and with it the short-lived optimism that he might just be able to win the lady back.

‘Andrew?’ Sir Edward persisted, ‘Surely you will not let pass this chance of happiness.’

‘I am concerned with the lady’s happiness, not mine.’

He met his father’s gaze steadily. At length the old man sighed.

‘Very well, we will keep your secret another day, if it is what you wish.’



Elyse left Mrs Parfitt to her baking and retired to her room. Once she had quit the warmth and comfort of the kitchen misery engulfed her again and she threw herself on to her bed to indulge in a hearty bout of tears. Eventually she fell asleep and did not wake until late in the afternoon. She lay still for a while, deciding what she should do. Part of her wanted to go to Bath immediately and throw herself on the mercy of William’s family but she knew that was not possible. However much she wanted to avoid seeing Drew ever again he was her guardian, at least for one more day. She sat up and addressed the empty room.

‘He shall fulfil his obligations and escort me to Bath, but once he has signed over my inheritance he can quit the city, quit England, and I am sure I shall not care.’



She kept to her room until the dinner hour, when she made her way downstairs, dressed in the borrowed evening gown and with her hair pulled back into a simple knot. Sir Edward was waiting in the parlour. She noted that he was looking smarter than she had ever seen him in a suit of cut brown velvet and his white hair had been tamed and was confined at the nape with a ribbon. He rose as she entered.

‘My son has not long gone upstairs to prepare himself for dinner, Miss Salforde. I hope you are content to take a glass of wine with me while we wait for him?’

‘Of course sir, and…you said my son, does that mean you are reconciled?’

He smiled and for the first time she saw the resemblance between him and Drew. It tore at her heart and she had to fight to prevent her own calm demeanour from breaking down. Instead she forced herself to smile back.

‘I am very pleased for you, truly,’ she told him.

‘And I have you to thank for it, Miss Salforde.’ He raised his glass to her. ‘You persuaded a stubborn old man to face the truth. My dear, about Andrew. He too can be very stubborn—’

‘Oh, pray do not let us talk about him,’ she interrupted him, pinning on a cheerful smile. ‘Let us instead talk of Bath. I am very much looking forward to seeing it. I believe you have arranged for a carriage to take us there early tomorrow morning?’

‘Yes. I understand there is much business to attend to.’

‘I believe there will be papers to sign and then we must find Lord Whittlewood and his family, but I do not anticipate that will be difficult.’

‘No, if he is in Bath then Nash will know of it, although I do not think the Beau commands the respect he once did. I have not been there for several years but I believe Nash is much altered. Why, he must be eighty if he is a day. A subscription was started for him last year, for a history of Bath that no one expects him to write, but I do not think it raised much income for him.’ He shook his head. ‘A sad end for the man who has done so much for the city. Ah, there you are, Andrew.’

‘Good evening, Father. Miss Salforde.’

Elyse kept her eyes averted and acknowledged him with the merest inclination of her head. If he noticed her coolness he did not show it but engaged his father in conversation. She sat up very straight, chin raised and full of steely resolve to show him that she, too, could act as if their encounter in the pavilion had never occurred. The mask slipped only once. Sir Edward went out and they were left alone. Elyse remained statue-like in her seat, staring straight ahead of her.

‘‘Elyse, I—’

‘Pray do not speak to me, Mr Castlemain. I do not wish to acknowledge you.’

‘And how the devil are we to travel to Bath together?’ he demanded.

She said icily, ‘You should have thought of that before you treated me so abominably this morning.’

‘Then let me apologise—’

‘No. I want nothing else from you, ever, save my freedom.’ She summoned up a look that would cut through stone. ‘Please do not address me further. Once you have done your duty tomorrow, I never want to see you again.’

She hunched a shoulder at him as Sir Edward returned to the room and any hasty retort Drew might have made remained unsaid. How little he must care, if he would make not the slightest protest. Burying her hurt and anger, she began conversing with her host as if she had not a care in the world.





Chapter Nine

Despite a certain lack of finesse in the presentation and the fact that food was served by the housekeeper, the meal that evening was the very essence of civilised dining. The diners talked of unexceptional topics and Elyse played her part with all the ease and gaiety of a consummate actress. She addressed all her remarks to Sir Edward and avoided looking at Drew but she was very much aware of him, felt his presence like a magnet, a force that she had to resist constantly. Her emotions were deeply conflicted, one part of her was glad she had helped to bring about a reconciliation between Drew and his father, but it angered her that he could apparently enjoy his meal while she found every mouthful tasted like ashes.

When she heard him discussing crop yields and estate business she was suddenly overwhelmed by sympathy for both men, knowing as she did that Drew could not remain in England without fear of being arrested. How was it possible, she wondered, to hate Drew for the way he had treated her yet at the same time to want him to be happy?

She loved him. As she pushed the food about her plate she could only hope that the misery she felt now would ease once she and Drew were parted.

‘Miss Salforde?’

‘I beg your pardon, Sir Edward, what were you saying?’

‘I only asked if you would care to try a little of the claret with the venison, it is very good.’

‘No…no, thank you, Sir Edward. I prefer to keep a clear head.’

The old man was regarding her with such a sympathetic smile that she felt the colour rising to her cheeks.

‘Are you fatigued, my dear? You were miles away.’

Even without looking at Drew she knew he was watching her closely.

‘I am a little tired. If you will excuse me I think I will retire now. I want to look my best to meet my betrothed tomorrow.’

It gave her some satisfaction when Drew dropped his fork with a clatter but she affected not to notice as Sir Edward got up to help her from her chair.

‘Goodnight, sir, and thank you for your generous hospitality. I shall not forget it.’

He walked over and opened the door for her.

‘And I shall not forget you, my dear.’

He picked up her hand and kissed it. Her eyes slid to Drew. He, too, had risen, but was busy folding his napkin, his face inscrutable. The lead weight that had been permanently lodged in his stomach all day grew a little heavier. Swallowing a sigh she walked away.



Elyse took an early breakfast in her room and presented herself in the hall as soon as the carriage was at the door, shortly after seven o’clock. Sir Edward appeared with Mrs Parfitt and Jed behind him.

‘By heaven, mistress,’ cried the housekeeper, bustling up, ‘You are keen to get away from us.’

‘My chamber overlooks the drive and I came down as soon as I heard the chaise at the door. I do not wish to keep Mr Castlemain waiting.’

Sir Edward’s brows shot up.

‘Mr Castlemain? You were wont to be much less informal with my son.’

She felt the blush stealing into her cheek.

‘It is not seemly that I should call him anything else, unless it is Mr Bastion, which is what I must remember to do in Bath.’

He looked at her closely.

‘Have you quarrelled with Drew?’

Her blush deepened.

‘We are not…friends.’ She added quickly, to change the subject, ‘I have left the gowns you loaned me in the linen press.’

‘Do you not wish to take them? You will hardly turn up in Bath with nothing.’

‘That is precisely what we shall do, sir. Thieves took everything we had with us, Lord Whittlewood must understand that.’