Melinda Hammond (4 page)

‘Oh, but I am never impolite
to gentlemen.’

‘And I am not a gentleman?’

‘You are an earl, sir. The two terms do not always go together.’

‘Miss Langham, you are prodigious ill-mannered.’

‘You have no right to criticize me!’

‘Now there, Miss Langham you are mistaken.’

‘No, I would grant that right only to my father.’

‘Or your husband, and that is what I intend to be.’

She laughed scornfully. ‘My lord, if you think to make me an offer, you will be disappointed. I have already told you your fortune does not tempt me. My uncle would never agree to it. And besides,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘I doubt it would be an
honourable
offer!’

Melissa was relieved to find they had reached Sir Joseph’s house. She turned to the earl.

‘Goodbye, my lord.’

Aldringham picked up her hand and met her indignant glance with his own coolly mocking one. He said softly, ‘I always get what I want, my dear.’

‘Not this time, I think, sir.’

‘And I rarely decline a challenge.’

“Then prepare to be disappointed, my lord!’ she threw at him, as she disappeared into the house.

Aldringham stood for a moment, gazing at the door, his eyes narrowed and the familiar sneer upon his face. What in heaven’s name had made him speak to the chit of marriage? He laughed scornfully. Well, he would have her, one way or another.

Chapter Three

From behind the curtains in the morning-room, Melissa watched the earl saunter away. She had seen him laugh, but felt no desire now even to smile. Discovering her aunt and uncle were out of the house, she retired to her room to calm her disordered nerves. She was not a poor-spirited girl, but the encounter with Aldringham had left her trembling. She could not deny that part of her had enjoyed their sparring, but the sense of power that emanated from the man was almost tangible. She knew her own stay in Bath was only a few more weeks, and thought that if she could avoid the earl for that short time, she would be free of him forever. Why he should make her so uneasy she did not know. He certainly had charm, she conceded. One only had to look at the way he had initially won her aunt’s esteem to see that. Melissa frowned slightly. What could it be about the earl that unnerved her so? His face was handsome enough, in a rugged sort of way, but there was no mercy in the stern lines of his mouth, no warmth in the steely blue-grey eyes, that cut through every barrier of ice or civility that she erected and seemed to penetrate her very soul.

The very thought of his percipient glance made Melissa shiver, but she refused to let a mere look turn her into a coward. No, if he could really perceive her dislike of him she could not be sorry for it!

* * * *

For several days Melissa remained in the house, pleading a slight chill. Sir Joseph and his wife, however, continued to go abroad, enjoying the society that Bath afforded. Although Sir Joseph had said nothing to his wife, he, too, was looking forward to leaving Bath. He had been introduced to several snug little gaming houses in the city, and he had indulged his taste for gambling a little too freely. In an attempt to cut back, he now intended to avoid the dice and to restrict his gambling to card games where the stakes were low, or to the occasional wager on a horse he knew to be in good form. He was not unduly worried, for he owned a comfortable estate in Wiltshire and with a little economy he knew he could cover his obligations. Thus, when he found himself in the card-room of one of the more select clubs, he allowed himself to be persuaded to join in a card game that was taking place. Sir Joseph noted that Aldringham was one of the party. They had not met since Sir Joseph had dragged his niece from the Assembly Rooms, but the earl’s nod was friendly enough, and Sir Joseph knew that his lordship had a reputation for fair play in his gaming, if not his women. He therefore sat down and prepared to enjoy himself.

The luck went evenly with the players, each losing and gaining a little. Gradually Sir Joseph found that the pile of rouleaus at his elbow was growing, and as the brandy in his glass lessened, his confidence in his own luck grew. After an hour, one of the players withdrew, exclaiming mournfully that he was engaged to escort his mother and sister to the Assembly Rooms.

‘What, Rodney, tied to the apron strings?’ the earl’s sneering drawl cut across the table. Mr Stottan reddened and lounged away, muttering. The game continued with the three remaining players. Sir Joseph continued to gain: he would lose occasionally, but through some chance mistake on the part of one of his opponents the pile of rouleaus continued to grow. At length only Sir Joseph and the Earl of Aldringham remained at the table.

The earl leaned back in his chair and regarded his opponent with lazily mocking eyes.

‘Well, Sir Joseph. Shall we continue? It is early yet, and I would like the chance to regain some of my losses.’

Sir Joseph glanced across the table. In the recesses of his mind he was a little surprised that the earl, who was well known for his reckless gambling, should be content to play for such small amounts, but the brandy he had consumed and the coins at his elbow assured him that his luck was in. What harm could be done by winning a little more?

‘I have no objection to continuing, sir.’

The earl rose. ‘Then I suggest we retire to the table in the corner. It has fewer - er - distractions.’

The two men moved to the small card table in an alcove. A waiter brought more candles and a fresh pack of cards and the two men settled down to their game. At first Sir Joseph continued to win, but gradually he realized that Aldringham was slowly increasing the stakes. However, the excitement of the game had taken over and Sir Joseph began to play more recklessly. It became apparent to Sir Joseph that Aldringham was taking control of the game. In a kind of dream he watched his notes of hand growing into a large pile at his lordship’s elbow. Another hour passed before the earl called a halt.

‘I think, Fryer, it would be wise for me to total my winnings before we continue.’ Sir Joseph’s clouded eyes watched as the earl sorted through the papers before him.

‘I will settle with you tomorrow, sir,’ he muttered.

The earl’s voice was smooth as silk, yet there was a hint of steel in his tone.

‘Oh no, Sir Joseph. We shall settle now, I think.’ He handed over the notes to his opponent.

Sir Joseph glanced through them and his face, previously flushed with drink, grew pale. He looked up at Aldringham.

‘B - but how? I - I do not understand. How did I write so many notes when I know—’ He stopped suddenly, and dropped his head into his hands, groaning.

The earl retrieved the notes.

‘So, sir, you cannot pay? I think that even by mortgaging your estate and selling your horses you could not meet this sum.’ The earl smiled coldly. His black-lashed lids half-covered his eyes, but his gaze never left his opponent. The anguished figure drew a breath, and fought to control himself.

‘I shall repay you as soon as possible, my lord. Of course, it may take a little time …’

‘That will not do, sir.’ The earl paused. ‘There is one way to settle this, I think.’

Sir Joseph looked up eagerly.

The earl’s long fingers toyed with the stem of his wineglass.

‘I want your niece.’

‘No. That is impossible!’

Aldringham leaned back in his chair, a stark contrast to the rigid figure of his opponent. He said coolly, ‘Come, Sir Joseph. You know that to pay these notes would mean the ruin of your family. Think on it. Your sons would have to leave school, your wife is quite unused to penury - it could even mean the debtors’ prison. Would you sacrifice their comforts for a distant relative?’

Sir Joseph sought desperately for an escape, but could find none. The earl’s words rang horribly clear in his mind. He fought down a momentary panic.

‘Well, sir?’

Sir Joseph squared his shoulders and looked at the earl.

‘It will not come to that. I - I shall need a little time to settle with you, my lord, but you need have no fear: I shall pay.’

Aldringham shrugged and watched the dejected figure walk from the room. A malicious gleam stole into his eyes.

‘All may not yet be lost. Perhaps the role of martyr will be more palatable to the little spitfire.’

Chapter Four

Melissa returned from a short walk to the library the following morning to find the house in uproar. My lady, the butler informed her, was in her room.

‘Looking in a bad way, miss, if I may say so,’ he added gloomily.

Waiting only to cast off her bonnet and cloak, Miss Langham hurried to her aunt, noticing as she did so that the servants were packing away all the family’s personal effects from the salon. She entered the bedroom to find her aunt in hysterics, with the abigail holding burnt feathers under her nose, and a young housemaid hovering anxiously behind her mistress. Melissa quickly dismissed the maid and relieved the abigail of the feathers. She then revived her aunt with the aid of her vinaigrette.

‘That will be all, thank you, Dunne.’

Thus dismissed, Miss Dunne left Melissa alone with her aunt. She helped Lady Fryer to sit up and gently enquired the reason for such distress.

‘Oh Melissa my love!’ wailed my lady, grasping Melissa’s hands in her own trembling clasp.

‘Yes, but what is it, ma’am? Are we to leave Bath?’

‘Oh yes, love! Your uncle has lost everything to that dreadful man! I told him not to play deep and he is usually so careful—’

‘Please Aunt, try to calm yourself. Has Sir Joseph lost money gambling? Surely it cannot be so very much.’

‘Everything!’ cried the poor lady, burying her face in her handkerchief.

‘But that’s impossible! Why, there is no one in Bath who would . . . .’ A cold fear gripped Melissa. ‘Tell me, ma’am, who was Sir Joseph’s opponent?’

‘Who? I am sure I have no idea, love!’ Lady Fryer twisted her handkerchief between her fingers.

‘Come, ma’am. You must tell me.’

‘Your uncle would not discuss such things with me.’ Her aunt took refuge in tears.

‘Please, Aunt, I am sure you know, but if you will not tell me, I must go to my uncle.’

‘Oh no, Melissa! Pray - he made me promise not to tell you anything, except that we are to return to Wiltshire. But he has lost everything, Melissa!’ Lady Fryer dabbed at her eyes with her dainty square of lace. ‘The boys will have to come home, we must sell the house — oh my love, we will have to live in squalor. I shall die, I know I shall.’

Melissa did her best to comfort her aunt. It was useless to question her further, and she helped the afflicted lady to her bed, leaving her abigail in attendance while she went in search of her uncle.

Melissa found Sir Joseph in his study. A number of ledgers were open on the desk before him, but her uncle was staring blankly into space.

‘Sir? May I speak with you?’

He looked at her for a moment, then forced himself to smile.

‘What? Oh, yes, Melissa. Of course. What is it you want of me?’

She stood before the desk, her hands clasped tightly before her.

‘My aunt tells me we must leave Bath, sir. That you -we - have lost a deal of money.’

A tinge of colour stole into her uncle’s cheeks and when he answered her his tone was brusque.

‘Did she? Well she had no business to worry you with such matters. There is nothing for you to concern yourself with, my pet. There are a few trifling debts I have to pay, but we shall come about. There will have to be a few economies, of course …’

‘Sir, to whom did you lose this money?’

‘Now that I will not tell you, Melissa, and I shall be obliged if you do not ask again!’

Melissa drew a quick breath and said, rather shakily,  ‘It was Aldringham, was it not, Uncle?’

She fixed her eyes on his face, watching him closely. After a moment, Sir Joseph sighed and sat back.

‘Very well,’ he said in a resigned voice. ‘Yes, Melissa, it was the earl. I was a little foxed and I gambled a little too freely. Before I knew what was happening he had a pile of notes at his elbow. My notes of hand!’

‘But why did he allow you to pledge so much, sir? He must know your fortune is not comparable to his own.’

‘You do not understand, child. It is not for Aldringham to refuse to play me. Why, ‘twould be an insult if he should decline to accept my notes.’

‘Better to be insulted than ruined, sir,’ she muttered, before fixing him again with her direct gaze. ‘Did - did he mention . . . me?’

Sir Joseph looked uncomfortable.

‘Now why should he do that, child? Come now, Melissa, I assure you there is nothing for you to worry about. We are leaving Bath a little earlier than anticipated, but that will be no hardship, will it? This June weather will soon bake the streets and make the town very uncomfortable. I think we will all enjoy seeing Wiltshire again, and our friends. Now, my love, if you will excuse me, there is much to do before I can pack away my books ...’

Melissa listened quietly to her uncle’s blustering tone, assured him that she was not in the least worried, and left him. Sir Joseph sank back in his chair. At least he had given Melissa no cause to suppose that she was in any way connected with the family’s difficulties.

* * * *

Sir Joseph would not have been quite so confident had he seen his niece later that afternoon. Melissa had gone directly to her room, dashed off a note which she sent her maid to deliver and laid herself down upon her bed to consider the situation.

Thoughts came all too quickly: she could see Aldringham’s mocking eyes, when they had last met. She remembered how she had scorned the idea that he would win her and his final words -
I
always get what I want.
She realized now that her foolish disdain would be a challenge to such a man. That he had hoped to gain her through Sir Joseph’s weakness she had no doubt, but this time he had misjudged his man.

Poor Sir Joseph. Melissa felt the tears sting her eyes. He had refused to abandon her even in the face of disaster. She felt very grateful for his loyalty, but she could not let it go unheeded. If she was the cause of his predicament she must help him. Something very like a sob was wrenched from her and she turned her face to the pillow, hot scalding tears burning her eyes. There was no other way - she must repay her uncle’s kindness in the only way possible, no matter what the cost to herself.