Regency Innocents (42 page)

She blanked out the Countess's persistent chirruping as the coach bore them into the City, as she tried to make some sense out of what she had let slip the moment they had got into the coach. She remembered the look of contempt Captain Fawley had directed at Percy Lampton the first time he had seen him with Susannah. And the malicious smile Lampton had returned. At the time, she had thought it was odd, but now she saw it was the look of two long-standing adversaries. She recalled the way Lampton had ridden up to them in Hyde Park, requesting an introduction, as though the meeting was
purely accidental. She remembered her instant distrust of his charm. And felt certain that he was not merely another in Susannah's long line of conquests. Could his pursuit of her been deliberately calculated for the sole purpose of preventing Captain Fawley from marrying her, and thus gaining his inheritance?

She alighted from the carriage in a daze. Captain Fawley was waiting for her on the steps of a functional building in a narrow, though cleanly swept, side street. He looked tense.

As well he might. He was using her as a weapon in his ongoing struggle with the Lamptons in general, and Percy Lampton in particular.

And it hurt.

‘Thank you for coming,' he said, limping forward to offer her his arm. ‘I was beginning to think my ruse would not work. Heloise is such a pea goose. A dear little pea goose, but sadly featherbrained.'

‘I heard that, you ungrateful beast!' Lady Walton put her head out of the carriage window to inform him, her eyes full of laughter. ‘Now you will have to wonder if I will return, in Walton's carriage, to take your Miss Gillies home, or if I will take offence and wash my hands of you once and for all!'

‘You wouldn't do anything so hard-hearted,' he returned, with a fond smile. ‘Besides, you will be burning with curiosity to discover how this interview turned out.'

‘Pig!' she answered, slamming the window and thumping with her parasol on the roof to indicate the driver should set off.

Could she really believe the Countess would connive at doing something that was really reprehensible? Though her words had set alarm bells ringing, the insouciant way she had driven off, after laughing and joking with Robert, made it sound as though she were participating in some kind of prank, at the very worst.

She shook her head, too hurt and bewildered to do more than follow meekly where Robert led her, which was into a narrow hallway and up a wooden staircase to the cramped office of the lawyers, Kenridge and Hopedale.

As they entered the room, two men looked up from behind a desk almost obliterated by the mounds of papers and files stacked upon it. One, a kindly-faced, stout gentleman, got to his feet, indicating that she should take the ladder-backed chair set out for the convenience of his clients. As Captain Fawley took his place directly behind her, the other lawyer scowled at them over the top of a pair of half-moon spectacles.

‘Now, then, Miss … Gillies, is it not?' the cherubic lawyer muttered, shuffling a sheaf of papers in front of him. ‘We just need to ask you a few questions.'

She felt Captain Fawley place his hand upon her shoulder, as though offering her reassurance. She felt an almost overwhelming urge to shake it off. Why had he not been open with her about his real motive for wishing to get married? Could he imagine for one second that she would side with the family who had wronged him even before he was born? She could not believe a man as starchy as the Earl of Walton would acknowledge a man as his brother, if there was even a hint he might be illegitimate. The Lamptons must have deliberately
robbed Captain Fawley's mother, and him, of what should have been theirs. Now Percy Lampton seemed to be trying to do the same thing, all over again!

‘We only need to know that she is of age, and entering into marriage with Captain Fawley freely,' the acid-faced lawyer interrupted. ‘Are you?' he shot at her.

But before she could answer in the affirmative, the kindly lawyer shook his head. ‘No, no, we must establish not only the legality, but also the suitability of this union. The marriage must be watertight. We do not want the Lamptons thinking they might have any possible grounds for contesting our decision to wind up the trust. If she does not come from an impeccable background, they might—'

‘Codswallop!' the thin lawyer snapped. ‘It is quite clear that Euphemia Lampton intended all her estate to go to this young man. Her nephew never even got a mention in the original will. Not even to a keepsake. You and I both know that she only added the codicil under duress.'

Something like a cold dart shot through Deborah at the use of the word
nephew
. Nephew to a Lampton? Could this other legatee mentioned in a codicil be … Percy Lampton? Was this the inheritance he had been fully expecting to come into? If so, what Captain Fawley was doing was worse than she had imagined. Not only was he using her to get his hands on this legacy, but it was a property that morally belonged to somebody else. Or at least … she chewed at her lower lip … Lampton had always assumed it belonged to him. So he would feel as though he was being robbed. Now she felt like an accessory to a crime.

The plump lawyer's cheeks went a little pink. ‘Now, now, we do not need to mention specifics in front of this young lady ….'

‘Why not? You are practically demanding she provide references!'

The plump lawyer lost his cherubic look, his brows drawing down in an angry V as he swivelled to face his partner. ‘Only in order to satisfy a legal point. Normally it
is
preferable for a property to go to a blood relation than somebody who has no connection with the testator.'

‘The connection is there. You heard what Miss Lampton told us when we drew up the original will—'

‘Excuse me,' Deborah said, rising to her feet, her pulse tumultuous with agitation. ‘But I am quite able to vouch for my suitability to marry any man I choose,' she said, addressing the plump lawyer. ‘My mother is granddaughter to the Earl of Plymstock, through the female line. You may check her lineage in
Collin's Peerage
. My father was a Gillies of Hertfordshire. Again, check away as meticulously as you please. Third son of Reginald and Lucinda Gillies, of Upshott. Not perhaps a noble family, but old.'

She drew in an indignant breath. Not only had Captain Fawley been dishonest in the manner of his proposal, but he had exposed her to this piece of impertinence!

‘You may also investigate as long as you please, and you will discover I have
never
done anything that would give
anyone
any justification for claiming I was not completely respectable. My father was a man of the cloth. As his child, he taught me how important it was not to let him down by so much as an unseemly gesture.
Go and inquire in the town of Lower Wakering, where I grew up. You will not find anybody who could cast an aspersion on my moral rectitude. And as for the other matter, yes, I am of age! At my last prayers, in fact,' she said, her face twisting with bitterness as she recalled that it was precisely this fact Captain Fawley had used to lure her into what he thought was her last chance of ever marrying. ‘And do I marry Captain Fawley of my own free will?'

She whirled round to glare at him. She felt humiliated, used, deceived. He held her regard without the slightest sign of guilt or remorse. There was only what might have been interpreted as a slightly mocking challenge in his eyes.

Trust him, the Countess had urged her. Do not side with his enemies.

She swallowed. Furious as she was with him, right at this moment, could she really back out of this horrible tangle, having come this far? Would he not see it as a betrayal, far worse than anything that had been done to him to date? He would regard her as an enemy. He would hate her.

Shaking with impotent fury, she turned back to the lawyers, who were awaiting her answer with quills poised.

‘Yes,' she croaked, her voice clogged with emotion. She cleared her throat. ‘If I do not marry him, I shall not marry anyone,' she declared firmly.

Then, her eyes full of humiliated tears, she whirled from the room and stumbled down the stairs into the dusty street. Leaning against the wall, her forehead grinding into the brickwork, she fought to regain her composure.

What was she doing, allying herself to a man who could deceive her, use her without regard for her feelings? Condemning herself to a lifetime of hurt, that was what!

‘Miss Gillies!' She blinked as the Walton coach drew up at the kerb, and the countess leaned out, her face puckered with concern.

‘Miss Gillies!' She heard another voice, a masculine voice, calling her from within the lawyer's offices. Captain Fawley must be making his way down the stairs, of necessity slowly and carefully.

A footman jumped down from the box and opened the carriage door for her. She strode across the pavement and got in.

‘Where is Robert?' the Countess asked, peering behind her.

‘I don't think we ought to be seen together, do you?' Deborah said, on a flash of inspiration. ‘Wouldn't want to give the game away!' she finished bitterly.

The Countess's face lit up. Clapping her hands, she gave the order for the coach to set off.

Just as Robert emerged from the doorway, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

‘O
h, isn't the Countess coming in?' Susannah wailed in disappointment as the Walton carriage pulled away the moment Deborah had entered her front door. ‘I was so hoping to meet her. What is she like? Where did you go? You have been an age, and I am dying with curiosity!'

‘She is rather like a small, determined whirlwind,' Deborah answered, thinking it typical of Susannah to display that unfamiliar emotion on a day she was least willing to satisfy it. ‘She whisked me off in her coach without waiting for a proper introduction to you both. I am so sorry,' she said, joining her mother and Susannah in the front parlour, where they were partaking of a light nuncheon. ‘But I did not like to keep her ladyship waiting ….'

‘That is quite all right, my dear,' Mrs Gillies replied, pouring her a cup of tea. ‘Since she is French, we cannot expect the same standards in her manners as if she had been brought up properly, can we?'

‘I have been consumed with jealousy all morning!'
said Susannah, heaping ham on to the plate in Deborah's place setting.

‘Jealous? You?' she gasped, taking her seat at table.

‘Yes! It is one thing having men dangling after one. But what really gets one into society is to make a friend of some influential or aristocratic female.' She placed a slice of bread and butter to Deborah's plate, adding, ‘I don't blame you for dropping everything and dashing off after her. If she takes you up, you will be made.'

‘Oh, I don't know,' Mrs Gillies interposed. ‘She is not exactly a leader of fashion. And she will not be much use to Deborah after another month or so anyway, since she is increasing.'

Deborah paused in the act of lifting a slice of ham to her lips, a troubled frown knotting her brow.

‘One does not just make friends that can be of use, surely!' she protested. She had never liked this side of Susannah's nature, and was appalled to hear her mother speaking of connections in similar terms.

‘But it is always a point to take into consideration,' said Susannah, popping a slice of tomato into her mouth. ‘You are too unworldly for your own good, sometimes.'

‘Unless … she may be looking for a companion to go with her, when she has to return to her country estate for the lying in,' Mrs Gillies pondered. ‘Her husband is bound to insist his heir is born at Wycke, and I have heard that she detests the place. She grew up in Paris, you see, in such exciting times, and finds the countryside tedious.'

‘Oh!' cried Susannah. ‘Perhaps, if she does take a fancy to you, she will take you with her, to keep her amused.'

‘Like a pet monkey,' Deborah remarked sourly.

Susannah began to giggle.

‘I can just see you in a little knitted c-cap, with a Spanish j-jacket, like the one we saw dancing in the park that day ….'

Her mother's mouth, too, twitched with amusement and from then on, by applying a little ingenuity, Deborah was able to ensure that the conversation never returned to exactly how she had spent her morning. By the time they rose from the table, her mother was ready to take her afternoon nap, and Susannah declared she simply had to write to her parents, since she had not done so for two days.

Deborah escaped to her room with a feeling of profound relief.

It did not last long.

Once she was on her own, there was nothing to prevent her from dwelling on what a dreadful situation she had got herself into. She had known it would be quite wrong to turn Captain Fawley down in the lawyer's office, while she was so angry with him. She needed to consider the situation rather more dispassionately, and make the decision which would affect her whole future, with a clear head. Concentrating her mind on fielding Susannah's curiosity had certainly helped her to calm down somewhat, but now she was alone, and free to think as she would, all her doubts and anxieties came flooding back with a vengeance.