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Authors: The Bawdy Bride

Amanda Scott (48 page)

BOOK: Amanda Scott
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“Not in front of Maisie, however.”

He chuckled. “You are generous, sweetheart. I recall at least one or two occasions when I scolded you in the presence of the servants, and several others when I certainly did not treat you with the respect you deserve. I have merely been served some of my own in return, that’s all. In any case, after the fright you gave me tonight, I am too grateful to have you safely returned to me to take exception to your scolds.”

“Well, in that case …” Anne began.

“No, no,” he said, laughing, “don’t test me too far. As it is, I am astonished by my own forbearance. I daresay that just now I would be able to confront even Andrew with equanimity.”

They found the others awaiting them, if not with patience, at least with resignation, and she soon found that he had judged his emotions more accurately than she. Seeing Sylvia still with them, Anne said, “Darling, whatever are you doing still up and about? You must go back to bed at once.”

“I woke up and went to your room, and you weren’t there,” Sylvia said. “I remembered what you said about not frightening Moffat, so I went back, but I couldn’t sleep. And then, from my room, I heard lots of noise when the wagon and carriages came into the courtyard, so I came down to see what was happening.”

Lady Hermione said cheerfully, “Don’t scold the child. No one paid the least heed to her when she first came down, you know, for we were all intent upon learning whether Michael had found you here and then were set to fidgeting when we learned that he had gone in search of you. At all events, we certainly would not have been so cruel as to send her to bed once she learned you were missing, which, thanks to Ashby’s blurting it out the moment we walked into the house, she did. Man never could keep a still tongue in his head.”

Lord Ashby said calmly, “Now, Hermie, I won’t have you talking like that, particularly not when we’ve just convinced Wilfred here that there was never any intention of our running off together, or of my compromising your reputation.”

“Yes, yes,” Cressbrook said testily, “but just saying that you have discovered today that you care more about each other than you ever knew before and think you might like to get married don’t tell me much, not the way you two have flown out at each other every time I’ve seen you in the same room together. Damme, it won’t wash any more than it will to pretend that your virtue was protected by that … that female yonder!”

Words failed him, and Anne realized that Mrs. Flowers, whom she had quite forgotten, was sitting quietly in a corner at a discreet distance from the others.

Lady Hermione said bluntly, “My virtue was never in doubt, Wilfred, and for you to suggest that it was is much worse than anything Ashby might have done. My own brother! You ought to be ashamed, sir, and just when I’ve found you the exact housekeeper you’re in crying need of, too!”

Hearing a chuckle from Michael, Anne clapped a hand over her own mouth, but Andrew said approvingly, “That’s a first-rate notion, sir, for she is an excellent woman and is quite in the habit of running a house, for she told me she had run quite a large one in Chesterfield before ever she knew Sir Jacob—And what I can have said to send you all into whoops,” he added indignantly, “I cannot imagine. You did tell me you had done such a thing, did you not, Fiona?”

“I did, Your Grace,” Mrs. Flowers said, “and indeed, I was most efficient, for I am of a saving disposition, you know.”

“Well that, at least, will be a change,” Cressbrook said.

“Then it’s settled,” Lady Hermione said hastily, “and a good thing, too, for what you and Michael no doubt heard Wilfred say, Anne, and very likely don’t believe any more than he does himself, is that I have agreed to marry Ashby. We realized only today that the main reason we are always pitching at each other is that we each care prodigiously. It is the greatest wonder,” she added, looking at Lord Ashby tenderly, “that we never before recognized the truth, for you must know we have known each other since we were the merest children.”

“I think you will be very happy,” Anne said, “and I hope you will both be sensible enough always to share your problems and never keep secrets. When Michael tells you what he learned at the mine today, sir, you will agree with me that he ought to have heeded his best instincts and asked your advice long since—yes,
and
taken you with him when he visited the mine, for I’m quite sure that you would have guessed all that was happening in the twinkling of a bedpost.”

When Michael had explained, Lord Ashby said, “As to ferreting all that out in a twinkling, I daresay I shouldn’t have done any such thing, you know, but I’d have been onto them before now, by Jove. And I daresay I’d have realized before Alsop did that there was a mischief-maker involved somewhere. It is one thing when, a man has to deal with the results of mischief on a daily basis, and quite another when someone learns about it who understands what is required to produce such results. Aye, you ought to have told me straightaway, Michael lad.”

“Well, don’t be too quick to take him to task,” Lady Hermione said thoughtfully, “for I shouldn’t wonder if he thought you were too much involved in your own projects to want to hear about his troubles, or even that you were involved yourself in the mischief, just wanting to keep him out of your hair. You didn’t give him much reason to trust you, Ashby, that’s certain.”

“Well, if that ain’t just like you, Hermie! Dashed if I don’t think I might be making a great mistake—”

“Not in the least,” she said cheerfully, “but you are not the man I believe you to be if you cannot be honest enough to recall that practically the only time you even talked to poor Michael—by what you told me, yourself—was when you were trying to cozen him into giving you money for your experiments. Now, isn’t that true?”

“Aye,” he said, cast down, “it is. And ordering materials in spite of him, as often as not.” Turning to Michael, he said, “I wasn’t the least help, was I? If it weren’t for me always running up the tab with my precious silks and inflammable air, you’d have soon paid off that dashed Newmarket wager, by Jove.”

Michael laughed. “Now, Uncle, you are taking entirely too much blame upon yourself. How on earth do you think your experiments can have been enough to prevent my paying twenty thousand pounds to Jake Thornton? I’ll grant you, you could send me flying into the boughs quick enough, and I did begin to feel as if everyone was in a conspiracy to wring money out of me, and out of the estate. Moreover, I daresay I felt guilty at first that my own debts formed a considerable part of the whole, but—”

“Twenty thousand?” murmured Cressbrook. “Newmarket?”

Recalled to his audience, Michael looked hastily around the room and said sternly, “Andrew, take Sylvia up to her bedchamber and then go to bed yourself. Neither of you has any business to be down here at such an hour.”

“I am still Duke of Upminster, I believe,” Andrew said, straightening and glaring at him. “If you are discussing Upminster affairs, you are discussing my affairs, and I won’t be sent to bed like a child. I daresay you do not yet know to what extremes your actions have forced me—”

“I believe I know enough to know that you and I are going to have a long talk tomorrow, my lad,” Michael said, cutting in swiftly and sternly. “Unless you want that talk to go more painfully for you than I had planned, keep a civil tongue in your head and do as I bid you. Do I make myself clear?”

Grimacing, Andrew muttered, “Yes, you do.”

Deeming it time to take matters into her own hands, Anne said calmly, “You should know, my dear Andrew, so that you may consider your own feelings about it beforehand, that what your uncle primarily wants to discuss tomorrow is whether you think you will benefit from attending a good public school.”

Lord Ashby exclaimed, “Now, see here, Michael, surely you ain’t thinking of sending the Duke of Upminster to school! Why, it just ain’t done. Tradition, you know. By Jove, I can’t—”

“Be silent, Ashby,” Lady Hermione said firmly.

To everyone’s astonishment, he obeyed, clamping his lips together tightly.

Andrew stared from one adult to another. Then, looking much more cheerful, he said suddenly, “Come along, Sylvia. I don’t know why you did not go up when Aunt Anne bade you do so, but you must go to bed now or you will look like a hag tomorrow.” And with his dignity apparently undiminished the young duke left the room with his little sister following obediently in his wake.

When they had gone, Lord Ashby said, “By Jove, Michael, I know I oughtn’t to have gone against you with the boy still in the room if, in fact, I
am
going against you. Come to think of it, you were not the one who said you was sending him to school.”

“No, but I am certainly thinking about it,” Michael said, looking at Anne with amusement in his eyes.

When she smiled back, the look in his eyes warmed to one that was even more familiar to her and to which she felt an instant, visceral response. She wished the others would go away.

Cressbrook said distinctly, “Not twenty thousand.”

Lord Ashby looked chagrined and said to Michael, “Sorry about that. Talking out of school again, and you’ve every right to be vexed, for I know you don’t want that wager babbled about. Look here, Wilfred, that ain’t for public knowledge, you know. Edmund kept it quiet, and so did Jake Thornton for a wonder, and it ain’t for you to go chatting about it to all and sundry now.”

“But I attended the October meeting at Newmarket with Edmund and Jake,” Cressbrook said simply. “Always go—spring and October meetings. Never miss one. Memory’s not what it was, of course, but that wager had to do with hunting birds of quality, or some such thing. Unless I’m thinking of another one.”

“No,” Michael said, subjecting the viscount to a searching look, “it was at Newmarket, right enough. I don’t have the record, but I’ve seen it, and that’s just how it was written. The type of bird they were hunting did not bear wings, however.”

“Damme, that’s the one I know then, for I wrote the vowel myself. Edmund tried, but he was too much in his cups to write and demanded that I do it for him. Jake kept it. But surely that wager was paid! Gentlemen’s honor, don’t you know.”

“There was an additional wager,” Michael said with a grimace. “When I saw the vowel, it had been scrawled at the bottom. Had Edmund succeeded in matching Jake’s success, the wager was to be declared null and void. He failed, however, and although I do not presently know the whereabouts of the record—”

“I have it.”

Startled, everyone turned to stare at Mrs. Flowers, and Anne realized from the looks on the others’ faces that, like herself, they had all forgotten her presence again.

Michael recovered first, and said,
“You
have it?”

“Yes, your lordship, I do.” She opened the reticule she carried, and removed a folded paper, handing it to him. “I’ve had this for months now, and though I do not generally carry it on my person, I did today, thinking that if worse came to worst, I could demand payment. Sir Jacob gave it to me long ago, saying all I need do was present it to claim the money. But when I saw that the wager had to do only with hunting a bird, I thought it ridiculous. And when I learned that he had made no arrangement for me in his will, that he had not even left a letter with his solicitor as he had promised to do, to show that he gave that paper to me after Duke Edmund’s death, I feared no one would believe me if I said he meant that money to be my legacy.”

“Good Lord, what a coil,” Michael exclaimed. “I have already told Lady Thornton of the wager’s existence, and promised to pay it. She did say she would not take the money, but nonetheless, I cannot but think she would change her mind if she discovered where it was supposed to go. Twenty thousand—”

“Two thousand.”

This time all eyes turned to the viscount, and with his color deepening accordingly, he said, “Remember thinking two thousand was an outrageous sum to wager on shooting a pigeon or two, but damme, for twenty, I’d have refused to write the vowel. Daresay I’d have told them both they were shockingly inebriated, and that I’d dashed well not stand witness for such a wager.”

Michael had been swiftly reading, and he said now in a puzzled voice, “But it is clearly twenty thousand here.”

“Don’t understand that,” Cressbrook said. “Moreover, they both knew the right amount. Can’t think why Jake would have told this woman she’d be set for life on a mere two thousand.”

“Well, I can tell you,” Mrs. Flowers said bitterly. “Jake Thornton wasn’t no better than he should be. A female learns in my line of work—my past line, I should say—that men are rarely to be trusted, but Jake was a piece of work, a real beguiler. Every time he made a promise, I believed him, and I think from what he told me of his wife, he could twist her round his thumb as well. When he gave me that paper, he said not to say a word about it unless something happened to him, and then to take it straight to Lord Michael without mentioning its existence to another soul. I tell you now, the way he made me promise to do it just as he commanded was one reason I feared something was amiss with it. And when I saw the cut of that solicitor of Sir Jacob’s, I was right terrified that he or Lord Michael would have me cast straight into prison if I showed that note.”

Lord Ashby began to protest, but Anne said thoughtfully, “Michael, what would you have done had Mrs. Flowers brought the note directly to you?”

“I would have explained that the estate could not bear so great a sum at once, but that I’d do all in my power to see she got the money, particularly since Cressbrook signed as witness.”

“You would not have demanded to see proof that Sir Jacob had indeed given her the paper?”

“No, her possession would be proof enough of that, and I should not think it particularly odd in him to choose to provide for his … for her in such a way as not to fling her existence at his wife at such a time.”

“No, in the normal way of things, Lady Thornton would never have known of the wager.”

Cressbrook said, “May I see that paper?”

Michael handed it to him, and he looked it over carefully. “This first bit is in my handwriting,” he said, “but I think that fifth naught was added later. Only look at the shape of it. I am certain I left a space on either side of the number, so that it would stand out. That is generally my habit with numbers. But here, as you see, there is space only on the left.”

BOOK: Amanda Scott
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