The Chaperon's Seduction(4)
‘Yes, that was a little complicated, I admit. So, in Bath I will stick to the gaming tables. But you may be easy, ma’am, I never gamble more than I can afford.’
He decided not to mention last night’s little wager. A mistake, that. He had no intention of joining the pack; they would be sniffing around the heiress like dogs around a bitch on heat. He hid a little grimace of distaste. He would rather lose his thousand pounds, write it off to experience. An expensive lesson and one he could ill afford, but he would not sink to that level.
‘And what are your plans for today?’
Lady Hune’s question surprised him. Generally she left him to his own devices until dinner time.
‘Why, I have none.’
‘Good. Duffy has the toothache and I am packing her off to the dentist this morning. I shall forgo my visit to the hot baths but I hoped you would accompany me to the Pump Room.’
‘With pleasure, ma’am. Shall you take the carriage?’
‘Damn your eyes, boy, I am not an invalid yet! If you give me your arm I shall manage, thank you.’
Richard quickly begged pardon, pleased that his great-aunt had recovered much of her old spirit in the two weeks he had been staying with her. When she had sent for him the tone of her letter had caused him concern and he had set out for Bath immediately. He had found the dowager marchioness prostrate on a day-bed, smelling salts clutched in one hand, but his arrival had greatly relieved her distress and she had soon been able to explain to him the cause of it. She had handed him a letter.
‘Read this,’ she commanded him. ‘It is from that ungrateful baggage, my granddaughter.’
‘Cassandra?’
‘The very same. She has turned out to be a viper in my bosom. I took her in when her parents died, gave her the best education, petted and spoiled her and this is how she repays me, by running away with a nobody.’
Richard scanned the letter quickly.
‘The signature is blotched,’ he observed, ‘As if tears were shed in the writing. Oh, damn the girl, I never thought Cassie would treat you in this way.’
‘She thinks she is in love.’
He looked up. ‘This is dated the end of July. Two weeks since!’
‘I thought at first Cassie might think better of it and come back. When she did not and my health deteriorated, Dr Whingate suggested I should have someone to bear me company, which is why I wrote to you.’ She gave a sharp crack of laughter. ‘Whingate expected me to summon poor Cousin Julia, but she is such a lachrymose female I couldn’t face the thought of having her with me.’
‘I can think of nothing worse,’ he agreed, with feeling. ‘Well, Sophia, what do you want me to do?’ he asked her. ‘Shall I go after them? I drove to Bath in my curricle but doubtless you have a travelling chaise I might use.’
The old lady shook her head.
‘No, they fled to the border, you know, and were married there. She is now Mrs Gerald Witney.’
His breath hissed out. ‘If you had sent for me immediately I might have caught up with them.’ He lifted one brow. ‘I could still find them, if you wish it, and bring her back a widow.’
‘And have her hate me for ever more? Not to mention the additional scandal. No, no, if she loves him let her go. Witney is a fool but I do not believe there is any harm in him. To bring her back would only cause more gossip. It was a seven-day wonder here in Bath of course, everyone was talking of it at first, but that has died down now.’ She sighed. ‘Her last letter said they were taking advantage of the peace to go to Paris. Cassie always wanted to travel, so I hope she is happy with her nobody.’
‘I take it you forbade the banns?’
‘Of course I did. As soon as I saw which way the wind was blowing I made enquiries, told her Witney was a penniless wastrel but she would not listen, she had already lost her heart. I did my best to confound them, with Duffy’s help, but she slipped away in the night. Laid a false trail, too, sent us careering in the wrong direction. By the time we discovered the truth they had already reached Gretna and were married.’ She scowled. ‘I have no doubt that was all Cassie’s idea, too. She is by far the more intelligent of the pair and not afraid to cause outrage!’
‘She is a true Arrandale, then.’ Richard gave a wry smile. ‘It’s in the blood, ma’am. There ain’t one of us that hasn’t caused a scandal of some sort. Why, if what they say is true, you yourself ran off with Hune.’
‘But at least he was a marquess, and rich, to boot! No, I told Cassie I would not countenance her marriage to Witney. His birth is acceptable but he has no fortune, no expectations. Not that that bothered Cassie, she fell for his handsome face. Oh, he is pretty enough, I’ll grant you, and amiable, too, but he has not a feather to fly with.’
‘Then how will they manage?’
‘She took all her jewels. She must sell them and live on that until she gains her majority next year. Then she will have a pretty penny to her name, enough to dispel any lingering gossip. They will be rich enough to be accepted everywhere. ’Tis the way of the world.’
The dowager had shed a few uncharacteristic tears then, and Richard had made his promise to stay.
Cassandra’s elopement had not been mentioned since, but it was clear that Sophia had been badly shaken by the incident and Richard was too fond of his great-aunt to abandon her until her health and spirits were fully returned. Thus it was that shortly after noon on a sunny day in late August Richard escorted Lady Hune to the famous Pump Room.
Their progress was slow, for Lady Hune was well known in Bath and they encountered many of her acquaintances, all of whom wished to stop and enquire after her health. They were distantly polite to Richard, making it very clear that he was only tolerated because of his connection to the dowager marchioness. He expected nothing else, given his reputation. After all, he was an Arrandale: they lived hard, played hard and devil take the hindmost.
The Pump Room was busy and noisy, echoing with chattering voices.
‘I know now why I have not been here since I arrived in Bath,’ muttered Richard as he led his great-aunt through the crowd. ‘The great and the good—and the not so good—gather here to gossip about and pass judgement upon their acquaintances. By George how they stare!’
‘Most likely they are wondering who my handsome escort can be.’ Sophia chuckled.
‘Oh, I know most of ’em,’ he replied bitterly. ‘It is more likely they think no son of the shamed house of Arrandale should be allowed to sully these hallowed portals, especially one whose brother was branded a murderer.’
Sophia tapped his arm with her fan. ‘Enough of that nonsense, Richard. You forget that I, too, am an Arrandale.’
‘But you married your wealthy marquess, ma’am. That lifts you out of the mire surrounding the family’s name. Look at them all. They smile now, but when trouble descends they will not hesitate to tear one apart, like hounds scenting blood, as I know only too well.’
‘Not all of them. The Wakefields, for example, are charming people. I see Lady Wakefield is here today, would you like me to introduce you?’
‘No need, I am acquainted with the son and I agree, they set no store by my wicked reputation. But they are the exception. The rest live for gossip. You told me how they all gloated over Cassie’s elopement, how can you bear to be polite to them now?’
‘Easily,’ she replied. ‘We nod and smile and return each other’s greetings with equal insincerity. Hush now, Lady Catespin is approaching.’
‘My dear Lady Hune!’ A gushing matron bore down upon them, her generous proportions swathed in yellow sarcenet and a feathered bonnet perched on her improbably black curls. Richard was forcibly reminded of a galleon in full sail and was obliged to hide a grin as his great-aunt responded to the lady’s fulsome greeting.
‘And Mr Arrandale, too, what a pleasure to see you here, sir. I heard you were in Bath, but our paths have not crossed since we met in town—when was it—Lady Whitton’s rout, I believe?’
He bowed. ‘I believe you are right, ma’am.’
The matron turned back to Lady Hune, saying with blatant insincerity, ‘It must be such a comfort to you, ma’am, to have Mr Arrandale staying with you in Royal Crescent. The house must feel so empty with poor Lady Cassandra gone.’
Sophia’s claw-like fingers dug into Richard’s arm and he covered her hand with his own, giving it a little squeeze of support.
‘Yes, Lady Cassandra has married her beau,’ he said easily. ‘We received a letter from her only the other day, did we not, Aunt? She is ecstatically happy.’
Lady Catespin blinked, her look of spurious sympathy replaced by one of surprise.
‘Oh. You...you approve of the match?’
‘We do not challenge it,’ put in Lady Hune, every inch a marchioness. ‘I might have preferred a different husband for her, but one cannot always regulate one’s affections. My granddaughter is lawfully married now, there is nothing more to be said.’
‘Ah, of course. I see.’ The wind might have been taken out of Lady Catespin’s sails, but she was not yet becalmed. ‘And you are here to support your great-aunt, Mr Arrandale. Your family is no stranger to tribulation, is it, sir, what with your brother...?’ She gave a gusty sigh and turned her eyes back to Lady Hune. ‘I am sure your great-nephew will know just how best to comfort you, my lady.’