The Chaperon's Seduction(23)

He laughed. It was a harsh, humourless sound, even to his own ears.

‘I am an Arrandale, madam. Scandal is our destiny. Look at my brother. And your own granddaughter, for that matter!’

‘Perhaps it is too late for Wolfgang, and I admit Cassandra’s elopement was foolish, yet it was her choice and she must live with it. But you—Richard, there is much goodness in you, it is merely that you have not discovered it yet.’ When he lifted his head to look at her she smiled. ‘You think at five-and-twenty you know everything there is to know but trust me, I am older and wiser than you and I say you are not a rake.’

He spread his hands. ‘Then what am I?’

The question hung in the air, answered only by the soft tick of the ormolu clock on the mantelshelf. Richard gave a shrug and passed one hand across his eyes.

He said wearily, ‘I think I am more drunk than I realised. I beg your pardon, Sophia.’

‘No matter. It is not the first time I have seen a man in his cups. Go to bed, Richard, but first help me out of this chair.’

He asked, as he pulled her to her feet, ‘Shall I ring for your maid?’

‘Lord, no, I have only to throw off my wrap and blow out the candle. I am not so infirm that I cannot do that for myself.’

He kissed her cheek. ‘Goodnight, then, Sophia.’

‘Sleep well, my boy.’ She clung to his hands, her fingers thin as claws. ‘In the morning things might seem clearer.’



Her words came back to him the following morning as he lay in bed, hands clasped behind his head, gazing up at the intricately carved tester above him. The night’s sleep had confirmed his thoughts, that he was damned uncomfortable hunting a schoolgirl, even if she was an heiress.

He shifted restlessly. Why had he made that foolish remark to Lady Phyllida? He should have realised she was serious, and would think that he was, too. Blast it, he had no wish to fight with her, but she roused in him feelings he had never known before. Feelings that confused him. More than that, they frightened him. He was no longer in control when he was with her, he acted in ways he could not explain and he was very much afraid that it was only a matter of time before he did something they would both regret. What that might be his mind shied away from, and he turned his thoughts once more to the wager.

Richard had committed many sins in his career but he had never deliberately set out to hurt anyone but himself. And his name. He had besmirched that with scandal, but any good that was left to the ancient name of Arrandale had been destroyed when Wolf fled the country. But Richard would not seduce a chit merely for a wager. He would leave that to those whose conscience was less troubled. His own conscience reared up uncomfortably, telling him he could not abandon Phyllida and Ellen to their fate but he beat it down again ruthlessly. He was more a knave than a knight in shining armour, even though Phyllida made him feel like one. Ellen Tatham was none of his concern and Lady Phyllida had shown herself more than capable of defending her ward. After all, it was only until Michaelmas. Three more weeks. And Sophia was in much better spirits now. If she could do without him he would quit Bath, and leave Lady Phyllida and Miss Tatham to their fate.

Having made his decision, Richard rang for Fritt and dressed quickly, hurrying downstairs to join Sophia in the breakfast room.

She said, without looking up from buttering a freshly baked muffin, ‘I expected Fritt to bring your apologies this morning. How’s your head?’

‘Aching damnably.’

‘It serves you right. Drinking dubious brandy at that gaming hell, then coming home and keeping me up to all hours and consuming nearly a bottle of my best Madeira.’

Despite the headache Richard grinned.

‘You do not appear to be suffering from the night’s revels, ma’am.’

‘No, I am very well this morning. In fact I think I shall forgo my visit to the hot baths and take myself shopping later in Milsom Street instead.’

‘Your spirits are clearly restored, Sophia. I am very glad of it, for I think it is time I left Bath.’

That did make Sophia look up.

‘Oh, might one ask why you should suddenly decide to leave me?’

‘It is not you, Sophia, but you know it was never my intention to remain here indefinitely.’

‘And what about that outrageous wager concerning Ellen Tatham?’

He frowned. ‘I told you last night I have no wish to be involved in that.’

‘But you are involved, Richard.’

He shook his head, which set off a thudding pain inside his skull. He said irritably, ‘I shall forfeit my stake, but I want nothing more to do with that damned affair.’

Sophia did not reply, but he knew she would not let the matter rest there. In the ensuing silence he addressed his plate of cold meats. The food and a couple of cups of scalding coffee were beginning to take effect and he began to feel more hopeful. He would convince Sophia that she did not need him and he could be at Brookthorn Manor by the morning.

‘So you would leave Ellen Tatham to the mercy of the fortune hunters.’

‘She is none of my concern.’

‘And Lady Phyllida?’

Let battle commence.

How he regretted those words!

‘She is perfectly capable of protecting her own.’

‘Is she? Do you really think she can keep her stepdaughter safe from the rogues and libertines who are pursuing her? I do not.’

He put up his hands.

‘Even if that is not the case she would not accept my help. She thinks me the villain of the piece. No, ma’am, it is better if I leave Bath.’

‘You promised to stay until I was better.’

‘You are better, Sophia.’

‘I do not think so.’

‘There is work to be done at Brookthorn. You are always telling me I should not neglect my estate.’

‘Brookthorn Manor has been neglected for many years. It will wait a little longer for you.’

‘Sophia—’

‘Dr Whingate will tell you I am not yet fully recovered.’

‘Whingate will say whatever you tell him—’

Sophia dropped her knife with a clatter.

‘Must I beg you to stay with me?’ she burst out, a slight tremor in her voice that he had never heard before. Immediately he capitulated.

‘No, of course not,’ he said quietly. ‘I shall remain, if that is your wish.’

He thought he saw a flash of triumph in her eyes but it was gone before he could be sure.

‘Thank you, Richard.’ She sat back. ‘And you will do your best to protect the heiress?’

‘Now, Sophia—’

‘I know, she is nothing to you, but she reminds me of Cassandra, and I would not like any harm to come to her.’

Richard stared at his great-aunt. She had never asked anything of him before, save his company. How could he refuse? The image of Lady Phyllida rose in his mind, indignant, outraged. It would take all his skill to lay her ruffled feathers. A frisson of pleasurable anticipation ran through him at the thought of it, but there was alarm, too. Instinct warned him against tangling with Lady Phyllida.

‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I will remain in Bath until that sawbones of yours tells me you are well enough to survive without me. And I will do my best to foil any attempts to seduce the heiress, but it won’t be easy. Ellen Tatham is as headstrong and spirited as Cassandra, and Lady Phyllida regards me with suspicion.’

She smiled at that.

‘A challenge for you, then, my boy. At least you won’t be bored!’





Chapter Eight

For Ellen and Phyllida the round of parties, dances and outings continued unabated. Invitations poured in and it was difficult to keep up with them all, but at least Phyllida knew that with so many social engagements Ellen had little time for secret trysts or meetings, even if she were tempted to agree to them. Phyllida was gratified that Ellen was in such demand and the most pleasing aspect of it all was that Ellen’s head did not appear to be turned by all the attention. She was as happy to visit the library or the Pump Room with Phyllida as to dance the night away.

Following her confrontation with Richard Arrandale, Phyllida was at pains to keep an even closer eye on her stepdaughter, but although Ellen’s suitors were as attentive as ever, Mr Arrandale was not one of them and it was a full week before they met again. Lady Wakefield had arranged a riding party to see the monument on Lansdown but Phyllida’s sister was due to arrive in Charles Street on the same day. Phyllida had planned to allow Ellen to ride out under Lady Wakefield’s aegis and with Parfett in attendance, knowing that if all else failed the groom was more than capable of quelling the high spirits of a girl he had known from the cradle. However, on the morning of the ride a carefully worded message arrived from Lady Wakefield to say that she had sprained her wrist and that the party would now be chaperoned by her married daughter, who was staying in Laura Place for a few weeks. The message was couched in the friendliest terms, which raised no suspicion in Ellen’s mind, when it was read out to her at the breakfast table, but Phyllida knew immediately what must be done.

‘I shall come with you.’

‘But what about Aunt Hapton? I thought you wished to stay and make sure everything was ready for her?’

‘I am sure I can leave that to Mrs Hirst. Besides, Olivia is not due until dinner time, and we shall be back well before then. Now, if you have finished your breakfast, Ellen, perhaps you would send word to Parfett to bring both our horses to the door.’