Finessing Clarissa (15 page)

His thoughts turned again to Clarissa. He wished now he had exercised more control in his love-making. She was a virgin but she had answered his kisses with such passion that he had forgotten himself. He almost turned on the road at that point and headed straight back to London. For the thought came into his mind that surely his happiness with Clarissa mattered more than hunting down spies. But telling himself he was being downright unpatriotic and sending up a prayer for Clarissa’s safety while he was gone, he bent over the horse’s neck and rode like the wind.

When he reached The Bell he was weary from the journey, weary of changing horses, aching to see Clarissa again with a longing that was so sharp it was close to pain.

He ordered a room and then asked the waiter to send the landlord up to see him.

The landlord came in, wiping his hands on his apron, and looking anxiously at the earl. ‘I trust everything is to your liking, my lord?’

‘Yes, splendid. Come here, man, I wish to ask you a few questions, that is all.’

The landlord walked forward and stood at attention. The earl looked at him with some amusement. ‘An old army man?’

‘Yes, my lord, Twenty-sixth Foot.’

‘How long since you left?’

‘Ten years, my lord. I was in India with Wellington’s troops. Got enough prize money to buy this inn.’

‘And your name?’

‘Sam Budgee, my lord.’

‘Well, Mr Budgee, this is what I want to know. You may remember that I paid for a room for a young lady some time ago. She stayed here on the night the troops were searching for those missing government papers.’

‘I remember that evening well, my lord.’

‘You may also recall a certain young man who had an accident. He fell down the stairs, I believe.’

‘A Mr Epsom. Yes, my lord.’

The earl searched his memory. Epsom. Then he remembered during one of his leaves meeting a certain Mr Epsom at Watier’s. A weak, rabbity-looking fellow who gambled deep.

‘Did he recover from his fall?’

‘Seems he did, my lord, although I thought it folly for him to go on the road so soon after recovering consciousness; but a gentleman came for him and bore him off.’

‘This gentleman, what did he look like?’

‘I ain’t one for describing people proper, my lord. Very much the aristocrat, begging your parding. Very grand and haughty-like.’

‘Hair? Colouring?’

‘His hair was powdered white and worn long in the old-fashioned way. He had black eyes and his face was painted white. He had a coat of some light-blue cloth.’

‘I know the gentleman of whom you speak,’ said the earl. ‘When they left here, which way did they go?’

‘Out towards Bath, or so the ostlers told me.’

‘Thank you, Mr Budgee, that will be all.’ Money changed hands and the landlord beamed and bowed.

‘Will I set dinner for you now, my lord?’

‘Not yet. Have a horse saddled and ready for me. I want to ride out for a little.’

Soon he was riding out on the Bath road. He had taken a description of Sir Jason’s carriage. He planned to ask at houses on the Bath road if anyone had noticed the occupants of the carriage or had heard what they said. He had not much hope of success, but he was not hungry and felt spurred to take some sort of action.

The gibbet stood up beside the road in the fading light. Normally, he would have averted his eyes from the poor wretches, but something made him look up as he rode underneath. He gave a sharp exclamation and reined in his horse. Three bodies were stinking and rotting. One at the end was also beginning to decay but the contorted face was vaguely familiar. The rain had washed it clean. He was sure it was Epsom.

He rode a little way away from the gibbet, his handkerchief over his nose and mouth so as not to breathe in the sickeningly sweet smell of rotting flesh.

If that body was Epsom’s, then why was he up on that gibbet? He had left with Sir Jason, and Clarissa had not charged him with any crime.

Then a sinister little voice in his brain said, ‘What a wonderful place to hide a body.’

He rode back to the inn and sent for the local magistrate.

Breakfasts were always held at three in the afternoon and the one Clarissa attended was no exception. The day was once more fine, unusual considering the customary fickleness of the English spring. The Herveys lived in a pleasant mansion overlooking the Green Park and the tables had been set on a long terrace outside in the open air.

Amy was looking very fine in a short spencer worn over a gown of green-and-white stripes. Effy was in pale blue muslin, her shoulders swathed in her favourite blue gauze and a wide-brimmed bonnet decorated with silk roses and marguerites on her head. Clarissa was in pale green muslin with a green silk pelisse. Her straw hat was in the shape of a man’s curly-brimmed beaver with the crown decorated with a broad green silk ribbon, the long ends, or streamers, hanging down her back.

She would have been enjoying herself immensely had not her partner at the table been Lord Sandford. Clarissa could think only of the earl. For the first time, she found Lord Sandford a trifle boring and thought that he bragged too much. She resented his proprietorial air but having encouraged him just the day before did not know how to go about repressing him.

His many compliments, which had done so much for her self-esteem before, now made her feel awkward and embarrassed. She dropped her fork, and when a waiter brought her another one, she dropped that as well. Lord Sandford was drinking heavily, Clarissa noticed, and his eyes shone with a hectic light.

From her watching post, farther down the table, Amy noticed Clarissa’s confusion. Lord Sandford must be told as soon as possible that Clarissa was spoken for. Why didn’t the girl tell him herself? She obviously had not, for he was constantly leaning towards her and whispering in her ear and totally ignoring the lady on his other side. Amy also noticed that Bella and Angela were watching Clarissa and exchanging occasional looks. They were plotting something, of that Amy was sure. Some way, she must put them out of action.

At last the meal came to an end and the guests were invited to take a stroll in the long gardens, which ran down to the park below the terrace.

Amy seized Effy and drew her aside. ‘I must deal with Sandford,’ she whispered. ‘But Bella and Angela are plotting mischief. While I cope with Sandford, you make sure they don’t get near her.’

‘What shall we do?’ Bella was asking her mother eagerly, and they moved to the head of the steps among the other guests who were anxious to see the gardens.

‘I have been thinking,’ said Angela. ‘Do you mark that goldfish pond? If we could cause her to fall in, then she would have to leave the party, and you, my love, could try your wiles on Sandford. She would look like such a fool and Crispin would get to hear of it.’

‘She is with Sandford just now,’ whispered Bella. ‘How do we get near her?’

‘We’ll follow them and look for an opportunity.’

They were unaware that Effy was standing behind them, listening to every word.

Effy looked at the back of Angela’s head, her eyes burning with hate. She followed them to the top of the stairs and seized her parasol. She was about to drive it into Angela’s back, therefore causing her to take a tumble, but common sense stopped her at the last minute. The flight of steps was short and Angela would only fall onto the springy turf, pick herself up and be ready for action.

Angela and Bella moved down into the gardens and Effy followed them closely.

Amy came up to where Lord Sandford was standing with Clarissa beside the goldfish pond and hailed him cheerfully. ‘Pleasant afternoon, Sandford.’

Lord Sandford turned, quickly hiding his irritation at the intrusion, and bowed. ‘I have been telling Miss Vevian her eyes are like the sky.’

Amy squinted upwards. ‘No, they ain’t. Sky’s blue, her eyes are grey.’

‘But they change like the ever shifting sky.’

‘Bad simile,’ said Amy. ‘You mean the sea.’

He waved an expansive arm. ‘The sea, the sky, all of nature reminds me of Miss Vevian.’

Clarissa shuffled her feet, dropped her reticule, picked it up, dropped her fan, picked it up, and stood with her head bowed.

‘It’s very naughty of you to encourage such lavish compliments, Miss Vevian,’ said Amy. ‘Don’t think Greystone would like it.’

‘Miss Vevian is not Greystone’s property,’ said Lord Sandford haughtily.

‘Not yet, she ain’t,’ said Amy. ‘That is if you mean the engagement hasn’t reached the papers.’

‘Engagement?’ Lord Sandford looked at Clarissa, who blushed and said, ‘I should have told you. I do not know why I did not.’

Lord Sandford looked at Amy, who stood foursquare in front of them and showed not the least sign of moving. Sir Jason’s face rose before his eyes, painted and venomous. His head reeled. The sun was hot and he wished he had not drunk so much. He must think!

‘I am sorry I arrived too late on the scene. Excuse me, ladies.’

Amy watched him go. ‘I’m sorry for him,’ she said. ‘Pleasant fellow and eminently suitable, too. But a girl like you is better off with a man taller than herself.’

‘I should have said something,’ said Clarissa miserably. ‘But somehow I could not.’

‘Never mind,’ said Amy. ‘Greystone’s a much better catch. Oh, Lor’, here come the ugly sisters.’ By which she meant Bella and Angela.

‘Not sisters,’ said Clarissa with a grin, ‘and they are both very pretty, but I know what you mean.’

Angela came fluttering up. ‘What a divine hat, Miss Vevian. Oh, goldfish. Do look, Miss Vevian.’

Clarissa turned politely and looked down into the pool.

Angela put an affectionate arm about her waist and Bella stood closely on her other side.

Effy, who had been following the two ladies, moved close to Amy. ‘They plan to push her in!’ she said softly. ‘I heard them.’

‘Create a diversion! Quick!’ muttered Amy. ‘No, not here, silly. Over there.’

Effy tripped hurriedly away. Angela’s grip on Clarissa tightened.

Often, Effy had been so worried about their circumstances that she could have screamed aloud. But it was vulgar for ladies to betray any noisy excess of emotion. Here, though, was an opportunity to let out a really good scream.

‘A snake!’ she cried, pointing at the grass. ‘EEEEeeeeeee!’

It was a magnificent scream.

Clarissa swung round and wrenched herself free from Angela and ran towards Effy. All the guests came running as well, except Bella and Angela, who stood with their backs to the pool.

‘Drat,’ said Angela. ‘We’ll need to try again.’

‘Try what?’ said Amy Tribble, suddenly appearing in front of them again.

‘Go away, you disgusting creature,’ said Angela fiercely. ‘I will never, never forgive you for what you did to me!’

‘Never?’ demanded Amy, her hands on her hips. ‘Then I suppose it doesn’t matter what I do.’

She darted forward with her hands outstretched and gave both Angela and Bella a hearty shove. Both fell backwards into the goldfish pool.

‘That’s what you intended to do to Miss Vevian,’ said Amy.

The group around Effy had dispersed and were now running towards the goldfish pool. Amy, who had moved quickly away, could hear Angela’s noisy and tearful accusations.

‘Lor’,’ said Amy. ‘Can’t abide scenes.’ She collected Effy and Clarissa and suggested they should leave as quickly as possible.

They had come by hired carriage and Amy had given the coachman instructions to pick them up much later. ‘No matter,’ she said once they were outside in the street, ‘a little walk home won’t harm us.’

‘May I offer you my escort?’ said a voice behind them.

They turned round. Lord Sandford was standing there, slightly breathless, but smiling.

‘That’s very handsome of you,’ said Amy.

‘You mean I am taking my disappointment well,’ he said with an infectious grin. ‘But I expect to be rewarded. An offer of tea, nice strong black Bohea, to clear my brain.’

‘You may have all the tea you can drink,’ said Effy, fluttering her eyelashes and taking his arm and moving off with him, leaving Clarissa and Amy to follow.

‘Damned ridiculous,’ muttered Amy. ‘Just look at her. She can’t leave anything in breeches alone. But, I say, he has wonderful legs. Just look at that curve. Reminds me of a balustrade.’

Clarissa had not heard Amy in quite so relaxed or free-spoken a mood before. Amy was feeling ridiculously happy. She and Effy had another success. She had had all the fun of giving Angela and Bella a ducking. Nasty pair! She absent-mindedly began to whistle through her teeth, until Clarissa pressed her hand and said, ‘You whistle very well, Miss Amy, but you
are
attracting a certain amount of attention.’

‘Sorry,’ said Amy. ‘I am so deuced happy, that’s why. Another success for us, don’t you see, and no violence or nasty murders either.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Clarissa. Amy told her of the happenings that had taken place at the house during the stay of their previous charge.

When she had finished, Clarissa said, ‘I do not think I like adventures. I just want to settle down and have lots and lots of children.’

‘That’s the stuff,’ said Amy. ‘Here we are. I suppose we will need to invite that young man in for tea. But he deserves it. He has behaved very well, and,’ she added waspishly, ‘any young man who can bear the flirtings and oglings of Effy Tribble certainly deserves a reward. Before we go inside, a word in your ear, Clarissa. Next time you go anywhere socially, you must say to yourself, “I am going to marry the Earl of Greystone – the
handsome
Earl of Greystone. I. Clarissa Vevian. And not some chattering little miss with more hair than wit like Chloris Deveney.” That should give you bags of confidence.’

Effy had entered the hall ahead of them, with Lord Sandford behind her. As Amy and Clarissa entered, they heard Effy say, ‘Oh, Harris, do not keep on plaguing me about the disappearance of Mrs Loomis. Have tea brought up to the drawing room, right away.’

Lord Sandford stood aside to let the ladies go first, his mind still racing. He had been a fool to waste his time on Clarissa Vevian. He should have courted old Effy Tribble instead!