Never Trust a Rebel(34)

‘Really?’ she sighed. It was impossible not to melt beneath his blatant admiration. It provided some balm to her wounded spirits.

Lady Whittlewood glided up, the lappets of her exquisite lace cap flowing out behind her as she gently moved her son aside and addressed Elyse.

‘Oh, my dear, what a most shocking tale. To have lost all your baggage, too, you poor child. But what fun we shall have dressing you. La, but you were always a pretty little thing and now you are decidedly a beauty.’ She looked past Elyse and directed a smile at Drew. ‘We are truly most obliged to you, Mr Bastion, for bringing dear Elyse to Bath. You may leave her safely in our care. I would ask you to stay and dine but…’

She trailed off, her glance leaving Drew in no doubt that his attire was quite unsuitable.

He stood his ground.

‘Thank you, my lady, but before I go I would like a few words in private with Lord Whittlewood.’

‘Is it really necessary?’ The viscount glanced over his shoulder at the murmuring group behind him. ‘My lawyer is fully conversant with the settlements. You may talk to him in the morning.’

‘I wish to assure myself upon certain points before leaving Miss Salforde.’ Drew’s reply was smooth but decided.

‘Very well.’ With the faintest of shrugs Lord Whittlewood limped towards the door.

‘I should like to come with you,’ said Elyse. She added, as the viscount raised his brows, ‘I came of age today, my lord. Mr Bastion is no longer my guardian and if he has anything to say that concerns me I should like to hear it.’

William touched her arm. ‘It will be very dull, I am sure. I should much rather you remain here and meet our friends.’

But Elyse would not be moved. Drew recognised the stubborn set to her chin and was not surprised when the viscount capitulated. As they went out the drawing room began to hum with chatter and speculation, even before the door was closed behind them. Drew felt a grim satisfaction that their arrival had certainly not gone unnoticed.



Lord Whittlewood led the way to a small study on the ground floor and Drew began without preamble.

‘First, my lord, I wish to look over the marriage settlement, to make sure there is no difference between your copy and the one given to me by Mr Salforde.’

‘Would you accuse me of trying to change the agreement?’ asked Lord Whittlewood coldly.

‘Of course not,’ said Drew. ‘But you will appreciate that I am concerned for Miss Salforde’s interests.’

The viscount unlocked a drawer in the small mahogany desk and took out a sheaf of papers. He handed them to Drew, who read through each sheet steadily, then silently handed them back.

‘I trust you are satisfied?’ The viscount moved towards the door. ‘If that is all—’

‘Not quite.’

Lord Whittlewood stared at Drew, who met his eyes coolly. At length the viscount nodded and reluctantly invited his guests to sit down.

‘Now, what else may I do for you, Mr Bastion?’ he asked, lowering himself into a chair. ‘As Miss Salforde said, she is of age now and mistress of her own affairs.’

‘That is correct, but I was a close friend of her late father and retain a certain, er, responsibility for the lady.’

‘Naturally.’

Drew considered his next words carefully. This would not be easy if he was to avoid insulting his host.

‘Miss Salforde’s position is a delicate one. She is alone—’

Lord Whittlewood raised his hand.

‘Settle informed us that Mrs Matthews was indisposed and obliged to remain in Scarborough.’

‘She has broken her arm, my lord,’ explained Elyse.

‘Then we shall hire a chaperon for you until your aunt can join us,’ the viscount told her kindly, before turning his enquiring gaze back to Drew. ‘Is there anything else?’

Drew hesitated. With Elyse present he could not be as frank as he would like. ‘I am aware that the settlements are drawn up very much in Miss Salforde’s favour, including the sum to be paid should your son decide not to marry her. Your letter indicated that you would consider the agreement cancelled if the lady was not with you by today. If I had not been with Miss Salforde when her carriage was attacked…’

Drew let the words hang. Lord Whittlewood was very still and the air around them swirled with tension.

‘I hope you are not implying,’ the viscount began in a voice as quiet as steel, ‘that I was in any way involved in the attack upon you?’

‘Not at all.’ Drew’s response was equally quiet, equally steely. ‘Although you cannot deny that if you had changed your mind about the match, a delay in our reaching Bath would be in your interests.’

‘True, but I would not stoop to highway robbery to achieve my ends.’

‘But you would remove to Bath from London.’

Drew saw from the sudden flash in the viscount’s eyes that he had hit a nerve, but the shutters came down. Lord Whittlewood waved one hand towards his leg.

‘My doctor advised me to take the waters. For my gout.’

‘And not one of your family could remain in London to meet Miss Salforde?’

‘No.’

Drew kept his eyes fixed upon the viscount, whose next breath escaped in a hiss.

‘I confess it occurred to me that Miss Salforde might decide against the match when she reached London and found no one there to receive her, but I was doing no more than taking advantage of an existing situation, not creating one.’

‘If I had not changed my mind in three years, my lord, it is unlikely I would do so because of a further delay of three days,’ put in Elyse.

Lord Whittlewood inclined his head.

‘No, of course not. I beg your pardon, Miss Salforde.’

She pressed on. ‘And you knew nothing of the attack upon us?’

Drew would not have asked such a direct question but he waited silently to hear the answer. The viscount met Elyse’s gaze steadily.

‘I did not, and would not condone such dishonourable conduct.’ He drew himself up in his chair and addressed Drew. ‘Let us be clear—and I have no reluctance for Miss Salforde to hear this—I might regret making this match. From my son’s perspective it is far from ideal, but having put my name to the contract I shall honour it. Miss Salforde may be assured that she will be treated with every courtesy and respect while she remains under my roof. I welcome her now as a daughter.’

Drew studied the viscount intently, listening to his words, watching every gesture, his senses alert for anything that might give him an excuse to challenge him. He had lived on his wits long enough to know when a man was lying and he wanted more than anything in the world to believe this man a villain, but he could not. The worst he knew of Lord Whittlewood was that he was a gambler and that was a national affliction amongst the English. The fellow had made a half-hearted attempt to make Elyse cry off but Drew believed he was sincere when he said he had not been involved in the assault upon their carriage. He could do no more.

‘Then I am satisfied to leave Miss Salforde in your care.’

‘Thank you.’ The viscount sat back and steepled his fingers. ‘My health dictates that I remain in Bath, but to comply with the late Mr Salforde’s wishes the wedding must go ahead at the end of October. We shall therefore make the necessary arrangements at St Michael’s. The wedding will be a quiet affair, since Miss Salforde is still in mourning for her parent. We shall inform you of the exact date, sir, so that you may attend—’

‘Mr Bastion will not be attending,’ Elyse put in quickly. ‘He is leaving England almost immediately, is that not so, sir?’

Her eyes challenged him to contradict her. Drew inclined his head, as if in agreement. After all, what did it matter? ‘Mr Bastion’ would cease to exist very shortly. He rose from his chair. He had done his duty; Elyse clearly no longer required his services.

‘Thank you, my lord,’ he said. ‘You have addressed my concerns and I will now take my leave of you.’

They went out into the hall, where William Reverson was coming down the stairs.

‘Ah, Miss Salforde, there you are.’ He ran down the last few steps. ‘Mama sent me in search of you. Her dresser is even now looking out some gowns you might wear, at least until she can have new ones made up for you.’ He crossed to Elyse, smiling down at her in a way that set Drew’s hackles rising. ‘I am to take you to her and she will find something suitable for you to wear at dinner.’ He picked up Elyse’s hand and placed it on his sleeve. ‘I shall carry you away now, if your business is finished?’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I believe it is.’

The viscount and his son were looking at Drew, who fixed his eyes on Elyse.

‘If Miss Salforde has no further need of me, I shall take my leave.’ No response. He bowed. ‘It only remains for me to wish you joy in your forthcoming marriage, ma’am.’

She curtsied to him, her shuttered face and cold demeanour telling Drew he was not forgiven, nor ever would be. And that was for the best, since she was to marry another man.

Elyse stood in silence, flanked by William and Lord Whittlewood as Drew turned on his heel and walked away from her.

He is going. The words rattled around in her head He is going and I shall never see him again.