Miss in a Man's World (26 page)

‘You took a grave risk,' the Dowager pointed out, a touch of admiration in her voice. ‘You must indeed love Lord Fincham very much.'

Georgiana stared down at the empty hearth. ‘I've always loved him, as I imagine you suspected all along. And I always will. And that is why I must leave London again tomorrow.'

‘I do not perfectly understand you, my dear.'

‘The engagement, my lady, was a complete sham from the first, instigated by his lordship in order to bring the guilty man to justice. He put it to me that working together would more likely lead to a successful outcome. What he intended, of course, was to undertake the investigation on his own and exclude me as much as possible.'

The Dowager could not forbear a smile at the disgruntled tone. ‘If that was indeed his intention, he was not wholly successful, as you succeeded in discovering his plans.'

‘Yes, that does afford me a modicum of satisfaction, but it is scant recompense for what I must now do.'

Georgiana took her bottom lip between her teeth in an effort to stop it trembling. Now was not the moment to break down. Time enough for that in the weeks, months…years ahead, she told herself.

‘The reason for the engagement no longer exists, therefore I must do the honourable thing and terminate the union, for I'm very sure Lord Fincham would not do so.'

‘Which might suggest, might it not, that he possibly has no desire to do so?' her ladyship pointed out, not unreasonably. ‘Might he have had another purpose for proposing marriage?'

‘Because he is in love with me, you mean.' Georgiana's shout of laughter was mirthless. ‘If only that were so! But he has never said as much, ma'am,' she revealed. ‘And he wouldn't if it was not so. I'm afraid the love is all on one side, though I've done my utmost to conceal that from him. The last thing I want is for him to feel honour-bound to wed me.'

She rose to her feet and went over to the door. ‘I have much to organise if I wish to be gone by morning.'

‘But, child, where do you intend to go? Wouldn't it be best if you discussed matters with his lordship?'

Georgiana, resolute, shook her head. ‘My mother possessed strength enough to give up the man she loved. I can only hope I'm equal to doing the same. But I need
time for some quiet reflection. Besides which, I dare not come face to face with his lordship, at least not yet. He might so easily weaken my resolve.'

I
t was as the late May evening's light was rapidly fading that Lord Fincham arrived on foot at a much-admired residence situated, like his own, in one of the most-favoured parts of the city. He had called at the property on numerous occasions in the past. His association with Lord Chard went back many years, before the time of the late Lord Fincham's tragic and unexpected demise. All the same, even though he had never looked upon the baron as a particularly close friend, he gained scant satisfaction from what he felt obliged to do now.

Ignoring the two men loitering on the opposite side of the street, avidly watching the house, his lordship mounted the steps. After gaining admittance, he was very soon afterwards being shown into the book-lined room situated on the ground floor, where Lord Chard, betraying a marked degree of surprise, and a suspicion of wariness too, it had to be said, rose at once from behind an impressive mahogany desk.

‘Why, when my servant informed me you had called,
I was inclined to consider the wretch had been helping himself to the brandy!' The jocular greeting was not in keeping with the baron's normally sombre manner, and something in Lord Fincham's mien must have revealed that he wasn't deceived by the false display of bonhomie. ‘Forgive me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it your intention to leave town?'

‘It was, as you well know,' his lordship returned. ‘So let us not attempt to prevaricate further. I know you are the brains behind certain jewel thefts that have taken place during the past couple of years or so. I know it was you who marshalled the gang that attempted to rob me early this morning. You must now fully appreciate they failed. Those members who survived the attack are now in custody, as are your other co-conspirators.'

Lord Fincham held up one long-fingered hand against the denial about to be uttered. ‘It will avail you nothing to plead the innocent, Chard. Your steward, Ivor Hencham is, as we speak, in the hands of the authorities. How long do you suppose it will be before a confession is drawn from him? If for no other reason, he will undoubtedly reveal all in an attempt to save his own neck from being stretched. I am here in order to spare you that indignity, too, should you choose to avail yourself of the opportunity that you ill deserve, in view of the fact that your determination to maintain your lifestyle brought about the death of an innocent man, one of your fellow peers.

‘No, I'm afraid there is no escape,' he continued, when Chard, attempting no further denials, went over to the window. ‘As you can see, across the road are two employees of Bow Street. No doubt there are others watching the rear of the property. They have been fol
lowing your every movement since my meeting with a well-known personage connected with maintaining law and order.'

His lordship sighed deeply, and there was no mistaking the genuine regret contained in the sound. ‘In deference to those closely connected to you, and innocent of any wrongdoing, I was permitted to see you before you are taken into custody. I do not believe you would want close members of your family to suffer further humiliation by a long and highly publicised trial, where every last detail of your life and marriage will come under public scrutiny. Better, surely, to spare them that and put a period to your own existence?'

‘I might ask why you became involved, but of course I believe I know the answer—your fiancée, Miss Grey,' Lord Chard at last remarked, breaking his silence. ‘I believe someone mentioned once she was very close to Grenville.'

‘He was like a father to her, yes,' his lordship confirmed softy. ‘And, of course, what adversely affects her now very much concerns me.'

‘It was never my intention to harm anyone, Fincham. I hope you believe that,' the baron said, returning to his desk with a distinctly purposeful stride, as though he had come to a decision. ‘I'm afraid, though, that since my marriage I've grown accustomed to every creature comfort, and when, owing to my excesses, the money began to run out, I had no intention of altering my lifestyle, if I could possibly avoid it, even if this meant putting more lives at risk…I was even willing to risk yours in order to get my hands on those sapphires.' He laughed hollowly. ‘Yes, a despicable fellow am I not?'

Opening a desk drawer, Lord Chard stared down solemnly at its contents. ‘I think you can appreciate
why I have no desire to prolong this interview. It only remains for me to say…thank you for showing me more consideration than I deserve…and goodbye.'

His lordship had no desire to remain, either, and left without uttering another word. He had reached the street and had turned in the direction of Berkeley Square when he detected the two men watching the house begin to cross the street. He didn't look back.

 

When he related all to the Dowager Countess of Grenville late the following morning, she betrayed little emotion, least of all gratification. In fact, several long moments elapsed before she eventually spoke.

‘I owe you a debt of gratitude, Lord Fincham, that I could never hope to repay. I recall dear Georgiana revealing something shortly after she had returned here yesterday that, now, I can fully appreciate. She said she no longer sought revenge. And I can perfectly understand that sentiment also. It will afford me no gratification whatsoever to see Lord Chard dangling from the end of a rope. I am not sorry you offered him the opportunity to take his own life.'

‘Whether or not he chose to avail himself of it, ma'am, I have no notion. If he did not, he is most definitely now in the hands of the authorities. There was no possible escape for him.'

She was not a female given to smiling too often. Lord Fincham, however, was the recipient of one of those rare displays of absolute approval. ‘And what are your plans for the future now that you have succeeded so admirably on my behalf? Do you intend to remain in London, as do I and my granddaughter, and enjoy what is left of the Season?'

He smiled ruefully. ‘I am no longer able to consider
only myself, ma'am. Much will depend on my fiancée, though given the choice I would not delay too long in tying the final knot.'

Again the Dowager smiled, only there was a suggestion of satisfaction in it this time. ‘I did not believe my judgement could be so flawed.'

It wasn't so much the admission itself as the tone in which it had been uttered that aroused his lordship's suspicions. Something was wrong… Yes, something was decidedly amiss.

He cast a frowning glance towards the door. ‘Where is Georgiana? Is she, perchance, out visiting with Lady Sophia?'

‘My granddaughter is, indeed, out paying morning calls,' the Dowager confirmed, before revealing what he most wished to know. ‘But I regret to tell you that Georgiana is not with her. She left town first thing this morning in a hired carriage.'

‘The devil she did!' he cursed, his perfect manners forgotten, and was on his feet in an instant. ‘Where the deuce has she gone?'

‘That, I'm afraid, I am unable to tell you,' the Dowager responded and, ignoring his fulminating glance, also rose to her feet and went across to the mantelshelf, from where she collected a glittering object, which she subsequently placed into the palm of his lordship's right hand.

‘What the deuce does she mean by it?' he demanded to know, staring down almost in disbelief at the sapphire-and-diamond ring.

The Dowager regarded him in some exasperation. ‘For a highly intelligent man evidently you can be remarkably obtuse on occasions, my lord. What on earth do you suppose she means by it? She is releasing
you from the engagement she believed all along to be a mere contrivance to obtain an end… Was it a sham, my lord?'

He shook his head. ‘Not as far as I was concerned, it wasn't,' he admitted softly.

‘No, I thought not. All the same, I never attempted to set her straight on the matter. I believe she needs to hear it from you, personally. She is under the impression, you see, that all the love is on her side. I know you are not a gentleman to wear his heart on his sleeve. But did you never once admit your feelings for her?'

A moment's silence, then, ‘Not in so many words, no.'

The Dowager sighed deeply as she returned to her chair by the hearth. ‘I once interfered in matters of the heart…I vowed never to do so again. I am prepared, however, to make this an exception. If you take my advice, my lord, you will locate the girl you desire so much to wed and tell her of your feelings without delay.' She sighed again. ‘I only wish I could inform you where to look.'

Again he regarded her in silence for a moment. ‘And you genuinely have no idea where she might have gone?'

‘I would tell you if I had,' she assured him. ‘I think Georgiana appreciated that and therefore chose not to confide in me. All I can tell you is that she left London early this morning in a post-chaise. I cannot imagine she would be so foolish as to return to her home in Gloucestershire, or take refuge in my private residence in Bath. She would consider they would be the first places one would look. Perhaps the only clue she gave was to reveal that she was going to seek shelter with someone whom
she knew would be kind and offer her a retreat from the world for as long as she craved sanctuary.'

‘In that case, ma'am, you must forgive me if I leave you now. It might be difficult, but not impossible to discover the precise road a lady travelling alone left London on early this morning.' He paused as he reached the door. ‘She did leave alone, I take it?'

‘She took only her belongings with her. But not Digby.'

‘In that case, ma'am, I shall run him to earth without delay.'

 

Using the journal she had pored over at the breakfast table, Georgiana sat by the open French windows, fanning herself. June had arrived with tropical fury, and the sun's merciless heat showed no signs of abating.

‘Truly, Eleanor, I'm so glad I left the capital when I did. It must be absolutely oppressive there now.'

The lady, sitting serenely on the sofa, raised her eyes from her sewing. ‘Are you so very glad, Georgie? Wouldn't it have been better to have spoken to Ben first, instead of what was tantamount to fleeing from him a second time?'

Since her arrival at Lady Eleanor's charming home the week before, Georgiana had been granted ample opportunity to confide all, and she had, leaving out nothing, not even that very first encounter with the Viscount. Like kindred spirits they had laughed and cried together in turn, but even so, close though they had become, nothing Eleanor had said had persuaded her guest to write to his lordship.

Georgiana shook her head. ‘I like to think I am my mother's daughter, unselfishly releasing the man I love from an engagement for the very best of reasons.' She
smiled wryly. ‘But I'm not so very sure I possess her strength of character. Your brother-in-law can be very persuasive, as you know. He is also very honourable and would have married me.' She raised her hand in a helpless little gesture. ‘Oh, he's fond of me, right enough, very fond, I like to believe. But that doesn't alter the fact the real love on his side would have been missing from the union. No, it is better this way, and in time I'm sure he'll come to appreciate it too.'

Rising from the chair, she went to stand beside the window to attain the benefit from what little breeze there was. ‘Did you read that obituary in the morning paper?' she asked, changing the subject from one that was still too painful for her. ‘It strongly suggests that Lord Chard died as a result of an accident while cleaning his pistol. No doubt out of consideration for the immediate family the authorities have decided not to reveal what they know.'

‘But it could be true,' Lady Eleanor pointed out, having been in possession of all the facts herself for several days, but Georgiana was sure it was not so.

She shook her head. ‘No, unless I'm much mistaken Ben persuaded Chard to take his own life. He was in a strangely subdued state throughout the journey from Cheetham Wood back to London that day. We hardly exchanged a couple of dozen words. Not that we could do a deal of talking. He was tooling the carriage for much of the time.'

‘Besides which, he was no doubt furiously angry with you for following him from town,' Eleanor pointed out, thereby eliciting a tiny gurgle of mirth from her very welcome visitor.

‘He was as mad as fire,' Georgiana confirmed. ‘If
you could have seen the look on his face! I think he could quite cheerfully have strangled me.'

Her smile faded as she detected a distinct sound. ‘Was that a carriage I heard…? Are you expecting visitors today?'

‘Not that I'm aware of, my dear. Possibly one of my neighbours paying a call.'

‘In that case, I'd best retire to my room. It wouldn't do for anyone to know I'm— Oh, good gracious me!' she exclaimed in alarm, after catching sight of an unmistakable tall figure making his way towards the house by way of the rose garden.

Eleanor watched in some dismay as the morning journal was tossed in the air and her endearing house-guest raced from the room in blind panic, knocking an occasional table over as she did so. Even though Lord Fincham's appearance in the doorway a moment later was not wholly unexpected, she still managed to let her sewing slide from her fingers to the floor as she rose to her feet.

‘Oh, God!' Eleanor muttered for want of something more appropriate to say by way of a greeting.

‘Not quite, merely your brother-in-law.' He felt for his quizzing-glass, and through it surveyed the bits and pieces littering the floor. ‘Dear me, my unexpected arrival does appear to have had an adverse effect.'

‘Not at all, dear brother,' Eleanor assured him, though still clasping her throat with one hand, like a Drury Lane actress performing in some Greek tragedy. ‘It is always such a pleasure to see you. Can I offer you some refreshment?'

‘No, thank you, Eleanor. I have no intention of taking up more of your time than I need do, and so shall come to the point of my visit—where is she?'