The Chaperon's Seduction(42)

‘Not at all,’ Sophia assured her. ‘I find Ellen very entertaining. I shall miss you both when you have gone to Tatham Park.’

They took their leave, and Phyllida felt a pang of regret that her friendship with the marchioness must be suspended, at least for the present.



The mood around the gaming table was very cheerful, which was not surprising, Richard thought. None of them had won the wager to seduce the heiress, and the agreement they had drawn up now meant that each of them would be getting back the majority of his stake. Burton himself had brought the betting book and his cash box and was even now counting out the money and taking a small commission for himself.

Sir Charles Urmston’s voice made it heard above the general conversation.

‘So Arrandale, the widow outfoxed you in the end.’

Richard instructed a hovering waiter to attend to a guttering candle before replying, ‘It would appear so.’

‘Miss Ellen Tatham and her reputation are unblemished and I hear the widow is taking her out of Bath at the end of the week.’

‘Can you blame her?’ declared George Cromby. ‘Keeping an heiress out of harm’s way must be an exhausting business. To be honest I am glad this damned affair is over. If my wife had got wind of it I should have been in the suds!’

‘Nevertheless it grieves me to let a fortune go begging,’ muttered Tesford. ‘What say you, Urmston?’

‘One should know when to admit defeat,’ murmured Sir Charles. He shot a malevolent glance towards Richard. Neither man had spoken of their encounter at Shrewton but it was there, between them. It did not worry Richard. Urmston was a bully. He had a sharp tongue, but he was unlikely to cause any more damage.

‘The gel is being presented next year,’ said Cromby. ‘You single gentlemen could go to London and try your luck there. It may prove easier in town.’

‘I doubt it,’ grumbled Fullingham. ‘If Arrandale with all his famous charm couldn’t win the chit in Bath I don’t see any of us succeeding in London, where a host of more eligible suitors are likely to be pursuing her.’

‘And the stepmother has proved herself a veritable dragon,’ drawled Urmston. ‘Surprising for one who looks so insignificant.’

It was all that Richard could do to stay in his seat, but if he leapt to Phyllida’s defence that would only rouse conjecture. No, he thought as he made his way back to Royal Crescent in the early hours of the morning, he had done enough damage to Phyllida. Best that he should stay well away in future. At least he had the best part of his thousand pounds back. That would go some way to the repairs needed at Brookthorn. If only he could get back there, but Sophia insisted she was not yet well enough for him to leave her. Most likely she was lonely, he concluded, but although he sympathised he knew he could not remain much longer. Bath held too many painful memories for him.



The following morning he tried to persuade his great-aunt again that she could do without him, only to be met with the same story. The journey from Shrewton had taken its toll and she was not yet recovered.

‘And Phyllida’s decision to quit Bath has overset me,’ she continued. ‘Do you tell me that has nothing to do with you, Richard?’

‘I shall not tell you anything,’ he replied, shying away from even thinking about it.

‘Have you tried talking to her?’

‘Phyllida does not believe in reformed rakes.’

‘By heaven, boy, then you must persuade her!’

He put up his hand as if to ward off a blow.

‘Sophia, please, do not continue with this. It does not concern you.’

‘You are my family, Richard, of course it concerns me.’ She stared at him for a moment, until his implacable look convinced her he was not to be moved. She sighed. ‘Very well, I will not tease you more with it. But perhaps you will do a little errand for me? I have a book from the circulating library in Milsom Street and wonder if you will return it for me?’

‘With pleasure, ma’am, but do you not wish to come with me? It is a fine day for a stroll.’

‘Thank you, Richard, but, no. I shall wait here for your return.’



Richard set off immediately, pondering upon his great-aunt’s health. Whingate was currently in the country but as soon as the doctor returned he would ask him to call. It was unlike Sophia to be so lacking in energy. It did not take Richard long to reach the library and his task was soon completed. He was turning to leave when he heard someone call his name.

‘Miss Tatham!’

She beckoned him towards the shelves where she was standing. She drew a book from the row before her and, pretending to peruse it, said quietly, ‘I have been waiting for you.’

Richard kept his distance. He picked up a book.

‘This is not wise, Ellen,’ he said warily. ‘We should not be seen together.’

‘Oh, fiddle, I know you have no designs upon me.’

‘That is not the point.’

‘How long do you stay in Bath?’

‘Another week, no more. As soon as Whingate pronounces my great-aunt fit I shall leave.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘I do not know, and if I did I should not tell you,’ he responded bluntly.

She pouted but did not pursue the matter. Instead she said, ‘I saw a man following me yesterday. Is he your creature?’

‘Why, yes, although I doubt if there is a need for it now.’

‘Oh, pray do not take him away just yet.’

His brows rose a little. That damned wager must have unsettled the girl more than he had realised.

‘If you wish I will leave the men in place until you leave for Tatham Park.’

‘Thank you. Phyllida would be overcome with grief if anything should happen to me.’

Richard barely noticed the blinding smile she gave him, his thoughts distracted by a stab of jealousy. Would Phyllida grieve if anything happened to him? He doubted it.

‘I feel much safer knowing you are looking out for me,’ murmured Ellen. She looked around. ‘You had best go. I sent Matty off on an errand but she will return any moment and I would not have Phyllida know we had been speaking together.’

He could not help himself.

‘How is your stepmama?’

Ellen gave him a thoughtful look.

‘She is in very low spirits.’

Her words twisted like a knife, but he forced himself to say cheerfully, ‘No doubt she will revive once she is back at Tatham.’

‘I think she is more like to go into a decline.’

He said quickly. ‘Why do you say that?’

Ellen gave him an innocent look.

‘Oh, I do not know, but she has been quite out of spirits since we returned from Shrewton. I wonder why that should be?’

‘I have no idea, Miss Tatham.’ He lifted his hat. ‘Good day to you.’

He hoped Sophia’s doctor would give him a good report of her health when he returned at the end of the week. He needed to get out of Bath, whether to lose himself in the distractions of London or immerse himself in the business of restoring Brookthorn he did not care, as long as it helped him to forget Phyllida Tatham.



Phyllida carefully folded another gown and laid it on top of the clothes already packed into the trunk. Tomorrow they would set off for Tatham Park and everything must be in readiness. Matlock had offered to do the packing for her, but Phyllida had instructed her to accompany Ellen to Laura Place to join Lady Wakefield’s sketching party. The invitation had included Phyllida but she had used the excuse of their imminent departure to cry off.

In truth she had no spirits for company and she knew Ellen would be perfectly safe with Lady Wakefield, who had assured her that no gentlemen would be accompanying them. It had been impossible to refuse all the invitations that had come in over the past week but Phyllida had accepted only those where she could be certain she would not meet Richard. Her plan had worked, she had not seen him, but he was there, in her mind, ready to fill her thoughts as soon as she let down her guard.

He crept in now as she laid the peach silk in the trunk. It was the gown she had worn to the Denhams’ party. How her spirits had soared when she had danced with Richard. Her heart had beat so heavily it had almost drowned out the music, especially when he had smiled at her and she had felt her own smile spreading until it felt as if her whole face was beaming with delight. With an impatient huff she turned away from the trunk. What a simpleton she was and how he must have laughed at his easy conquest. Even then, with ample evidence to the contrary, she had been prepared to believe he was a good man.

But no more. At Shrewton Lodge he had shown his true colours, he had seduced her and shown no remorse. Instead he had laughed at her. Going down on one knee he had ridiculed her with actions that brought back memories of their one dance at Almack’s and her foolish daydream that she might reform him. She had felt quite sick then, much as she had done when she was a girl, sitting on the benches while the gentlemen passed her over in favour of those who were prettier, livelier, richer...

Angrily Phyllida dashed away a tear. She was no longer that shy innocent girl but a woman of independent means with a stepdaughter to consider. She had been foolish enough to fall in love with Richard Arrandale, but she would not let that break her. Life would go on and she would survive her mistake. Her hands slid protectively across her stomach. Whatever the consequence of giving into her passion, she would survive.