Lady Allerton's Wager (14 page)

She broke off as the light from Marcus’s lantern illuminated their little group. ‘Oh! Lord Trevithick! Good gracious! Whatever is going on?’

‘I am sure your cousin will explain all to you, Mrs Cavendish.’ Marcus politely held the inn door open for them. ‘May I encourage you both to return to your
chamber? And do not worry about an early breakfast! There is no hurry to depart in the morning.’ He turned to Beth. ‘Goodnight—again—Lady Allerton!’

‘Whatever happened?’ Charlotte whispered urgently, once they were back in their chamber and the door closed behind them. ‘Beth, you are chilled to the bone and trembling! What were you doing in the stables—and with Lord Trevithick? I can scarce believe it!’

Beth told the story as concisely and unemotionally as possible, pausing only to allow for Charlotte’s unavoidable exclamations.

‘Fowler was apparently in his cups,’ Beth said bitterly, as she reached the end of her tale, ‘as a result of Lord Trevithick’s generosity! And Lord Trevithick was in the coach, waiting for me!’

Charlotte gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, Beth! What happened?’

‘Nothing!’ Beth said, shortly and untruthfully. ‘Damnation! It was such a good idea.’

‘Well, I do not think so,’ Charlotte declared, ‘and I can only be grateful that it has not come off! Driving off in the middle of the night! Whatever next!’ Her gaze softened. ‘Oh, let us talk about this tomorrow, for we are both tired and upset!’

Within ten minutes she was asleep again, but Beth lay awake for much longer. In part she was preoccupied with the infuriating failure of her plan, for she could not see how she would get another opportunity to get away. Her predominant thoughts, however, were of Marcus and of the devastating effect that he appeared to have on her. It made it even more imperative that she should escape him, and soon. She could not trust him and she could not trust her own
reactions. Beth stared into the darkness of the bed canopy. Her body ached with an echo of the need that Marcus had aroused in her, a need that was both new and powerfully demanding. With a suppressed groan, Beth turned on her side and curled up. She was not accustomed to lying awake and suffering the pangs of frustrated desire and at that moment it was an experience she would happily have done without.

T
he weather changed later that morning. The skies were grey when they set off from Shepton Mallet and by the time they reached Glastonbury the rain was falling and a strong westerly wind was blowing.

‘I do not envy the gentlemen,’ Charlotte said, peering out of the carriage window through the squally rain. ‘Their curricle will be full of water! If the weather becomes much worse, I believe the roads will become waterlogged and we shall have to stop at the next inn.’

Beth did not reply. She had only had a couple of hours’ sleep and was convinced that Marcus had roused them to set off at a particularly early hour because he knew she would still be half-asleep. Despite telling them that there was no hurry to depart, he had been knocking on the door at seven-thirty.

Beth felt tired and cross-grained but she did not want to vent her bad temper on Charlotte, who did not deserve it. They had already had one difficult conversation that morning; Charlotte had been hurt and reproachful that Beth had even considered leaving her behind. Once they had patched up that quarrel,
Charlotte had almost undone all the good work by trenchantly expressing the view that Beth’s plan had been foolish, impulsive and utterly unworkable and Beth had had to bite her tongue hard to keep silent. It did not help that she knew there was a lot of truth in Charlotte’s words. She knew she could be rash and impetuous, and that Charlotte considered her conduct unbecoming to a lady. She even accepted that she was thoroughly obsessed with Fairhaven and that that might also be considered inappropriate.

Beth wriggled crossly on the cushions. Today, for some reason, the carriage felt so much more uncomfortable. Her hours of insomnia the previous night had not led to any useful thoughts, either—she was still completely baffled as to how she might shake Marcus off and reach Fairhaven before him. Beth looked out at the pouring rain and sighed. Matters were not going at all to plan. The journey to Fairhaven, which had appeared so romantic and exciting to her only a few days earlier, had assumed a resemblance to a farce. Marcus held all the cards and she might as well give up now, which was no doubt what he intended her to do.

Then there was Marcus himself. She knew that the longer she was in his company, the greater her danger. She was as untried in love as a young debutante and no matter how fiercely she tried to defend herself against him, she was fighting her own feelings as well as him. She found him all too devastatingly attractive but, whilst she was certain he might try to seduce her, she had no confidence about reading his feelings. She stared glumly out at the rain. Perhaps Marcus even viewed her seduction as part of the challenge of the situation.

Just as she was thinking of him, the coach lurched to a halt and Marcus appeared at the window. His strong brown face was dusted with raindrops and his dark hair was plastered to his head. The rain was running in rivulets off his caped driving coat. Beth pushed the window down.

‘Lady Allerton, Mrs Cavendish—the weather is far too inclement for us to continue. I have a friend living a short distance away in the village of Ashlyn. If you are agreeable, we shall call at the vicarage and beg shelter, at least until the storm stops.’

‘Only fancy Lord Trevithick having a friend who is a clergyman!’ Charlotte commented when the plan had been agreed and the carriage was in motion once again. ‘He cannot be so dreadfully wicked if he keeps company with a man of the cloth!’

Beth laughed. ‘Really, Charlotte! I sometimes think you are thrice as naïve as I, despite your greater years! There are plenty of clergymen far more wicked than Lord Trevithick will ever be!’

Charlotte looked affronted but did not argue. The coach had turned in at a neat entrance gate and was making its way up a drive to a substantial stone house, far grander than most of the vicarages Beth had known.

‘I believe Lord Trevithick’s friend keeps a certain style,’ she commented, as they drew up outside the pedimented front door.

This impression was reinforced once they were inside the house. A neat housekeeper had gone to alert the Reverend March to their arrival and the visitors had time to admire the marbled hall, the sweeping stairway and the fine family pictures on the wall. Beth was just looking at a gold-framed portrait of a win
some child, when there was a step along the passage and a small gentleman hurried towards them, blinking myopically through thick reading glasses. His face broke into a smile of great sweetness as he saw Marcus, and he held out his hand.

‘Marcus, my boy! How delightful to see you again! And Justin!’ The Reverend March swung round on Justin Trevithick and shook his hand with equal enthusiasm. ‘Your dear mother will be so delighted to see you! I was taking tea with her only the other day and she said it was high time you were bringing home a wife—’ The Reverend broke off and peered at Beth and Charlotte. ‘Upon my word, how remiss of me! Forgive me, ladies, I scarcely saw you there! My tiresome eyesight, you know…How do you do?’

Marcus stepped forward, smiling slightly. ‘Lady Allerton, this is the Reverend Theophilus March who, for his sins, was once my tutor! Sir, may I present Lady Allerton and her cousin, Mrs Cavendish? We are travelling to Devon and have been in some distress from the weather, so thought to throw ourselves on your mercy…’

‘Of course, of course!’ Theo March seized Beth’s hand and shook it firmly. ‘Allerton? Cavendish? No relation of Hugo Cavendish, I hope, ma’am?’

‘A distant cousin of my late husband’s, sir,’ Charlotte confirmed, looking slightly bemused. ‘I have never met him myself.’

‘Another of my tutees, I fear!’ The Reverend Theo wrung his hands. ‘A hopeless case! Quite wild and ungovernable as a boy and set fair to ruin himself as a man! You are to be congratulated on the fact that there is no close acquaintance there, ma’am!’

‘I am sure that all your tutees drove you to dis
traction at times, sir,’ Marcus said feelingly. ‘I know that I was a sadly lacking in any academic ability!’

‘Good at mathematics, but no application in Greek!’ the Reverend Theo observed. He turned to Beth with a smile. ‘I believe I knew your husband, Lady Allerton. A man of ideas, devoted to his studies. We were all very surprised when he married. Now, may I ask Mrs Morland to show you to your rooms? I am sure you will want a little time to rest before dinner.’

‘I am sorry if you were offended by Reverend Theo’s remarks,’ Marcus whispered in Beth’s ear, as Theo went off to call the housekeeper. ‘He is tactless, but his heart is in the right place.’

Beth laughed. ‘I did not take any offence and I am sure that Charlotte feels the same. Reverend Theo is quite a character, and more than generous in offering us all shelter!’

She saw Marcus relax slightly. ‘I am glad you see it that way. He has offended many people from his pulpit, but the family is rich and owns the benefice and those who take him in dislike can find no way to remove him!’

Mrs Morland arrived then to show them all upstairs, and Beth found herself in a prettily appointed bedroom that faced south towards the Quantock Hills. The clock showed that there were several hours before dinner, and with a sigh of relief Beth removed her damp clothes and lay down to catch up on some sleep. The bed was soft and downy and before long she had drifted into a feverish dream where Marcus was pursuing her along a beach and into the sea itself. She woke up feeling hot and bothered and found herself tangled up in the bedclothes and feeling very little
refreshed. It was now only a half-hour before dinner, and Beth forced herself to get up, wash her face and prepare to go downstairs. She had only brought one good evening dress with her, a confection of silver and lace, and though it was a little crushed it lifted her spirits to wear it. She called the maid to press the worst of the creases from the dress and arranged her own hair in a simple matching silver bandeau.

Everyone was already assembled in the drawing room and Beth was glad that she had taken trouble to repair as much of the ravages of the journey as she could. The gentlemen were elegant in their black and white evening dress and Charlotte always had the ability to look as immaculate as though she had just stepped out of a Bond Street modiste’s. At her side, Justin Trevithick already looked proud and proprietorial and Beth smiled to herself. No matter what the other outcomes of the journey, that was one romance that she would wager would reach the altar.

Marcus came across to her side and took her hand. His gaze was admiring and Beth felt doubly glad that she had made an effort.

‘Lady Allerton, you look very beautiful tonight. May I offer you a glass of Theo’s excellent ratafia?’

It became apparent during dinner that the Reverend Theo kept an excellent wine cellar as well as a very good table. As dish succeeded dish, all accompanied by the most exquisite wines, the clergyman kept up an entertaining flow of conversation about parish life, then started to reminisce about Marcus’s exploits as a youth. By the time that the gentlemen retired to take their port everyone was fast friends, and even Beth had almost forgotten that they were engaged in a contest for Fairhaven. The thought popped into her head
as she was preparing for bed, but for once she dismissed it and as a result slept soundly and dreamlessly, leaving her worries to be confronted in daylight.

‘I feel wretchedly sick!’ Charlotte said miserably, the following morning. She was sitting up in bed and her pretty face was creased with pain and distress beneath her lace cap. ‘It is all my own fault, for I knew I should not have had the sherry trifle last night! And now it has brought on the megrims and I have the most dreadful headache—’ She winced as Beth pulled back the curtains a little and a bar of sunlight fell across the bed. ‘Oh, Beth, pray do not! I fear my head will burst!’

Beth hastily pulled the curtains together again and went across to sit on the edge of the bed. It was a beautiful morning and she wanted nothing more than to be out in the fresh air, but she knew that Charlotte could not bear the light when she had one of her headaches. Besides, Charlotte was being more than generous in blaming the trifle. Beth suspected that it was the strain of the journey and the necessity of meeting new people that had done her cousin up and she felt more than a little guilty.

‘Can I fetch you anything, dearest Charlotte? Some rose water or something to drink?’ She saw the spasm that went across Charlotte’s face as she shook her head. ‘No? I shall leave you in peace, then.’

Beth went out and closed the door softly. When Charlotte was poorly it usually took at least a day for her to recover, so there would be no travelling to Devon that day. Beth knew that she would just have to be patient. It was not one of her usual virtues, but
under the circumstances it was the only course. She hoped that the Reverend Theo would not mind prolonging his hospitality.

The house was very quiet. Beth went downstairs and into the breakfast room. Marcus was alone, sitting by the fire and reading a newspaper. He put this to one side immediately as Beth came in and stood up to hold her chair for her, his dark eyes intent on her face.

‘Good morning, Lady Allerton. I trust that you slept well?’

‘Exceptionally well, thank you,’ Beth said truthfully. ‘I am afraid, however, that my cousin is in poor health this morning and will be staying in her room.’

‘I am sorry to hear it.’ Marcus looked grave. ‘It is a relief for me to find that you do not expect to move on today, however. Justin has gone to visit his mother over at Nether Stowey and the Reverend Theo has been called to the sickbed of a parishioner whom he assures me thinks himself at death door at least twice a month! It has become a ritual for them, I believe. Theo takes a couple of bottles of claret and the two of them sit drinking ’til the cows come home! I doubt we shall see him again this side of dinner!’

Beth looked at him a little uncertainly. ‘Then we are…on our own?’

‘To all intents and purposes.’ Marcus’s smile was faintly mocking. ‘I will not inflict my company on you, Lady Allerton—not unless you wish it! Is there any possibility that you would like to spend the day with me?’

Beth hesitated, trying not to smile, but she could not prevent herself. It sounded a most attractive op
tion. She reached for a piece of toast and buttered it slowly. ‘Well, I could be persuaded…’

‘Excellent!’ Marcus smiled broadly. He handed her a cup of tea. ‘Theo keeps as excellent a stable as he does a wine cellar, if you would like to ride!’

Beth’s eyes sparkled. It was indeed too fine a day to sit inside and she relished the thought of a ride across country.

‘Very well, then. I am sure we shall get on splendidly, my lord, provided that we do not quarrel over Fairhaven!’

Marcus smiled and got to his feet. ‘Then we shall not mention it for the whole day!’ He walked over to the door. ‘Excuse me. I shall go to see to the saddling of the horses.’

As soon as Beth had finished her breakfast she hurried upstairs to change into her riding habit. The anticipation was buzzing through her body, as light and bright as the sunshine.

To spend a day with Marcus without the tension of Fairhaven between them seemed almost too good to be true. Maybe it was a temporary truce rather than a resolution of the conflict, but whatever the case, she intended to make the most of it.

They rode out all morning, taking an old green lane from Ashlyn towards the sea at Holford. They did not speak much. There was no need, for the sun was warm and the birds sang and the colours and wood smoke smell of autumn was all around them. Beth felt curiously content, more tranquil than she could ever remember. Her enjoyment sprang from the pleasure of Marcus’s company, the warmth of his smile, the cadence of his voice and the light touch of his
hand on her arm whenever he pointed out a view or something of interest. It was a more gentle feeling than the disturbing awareness that Marcus’s presence habitually engendered in her, but Beth knew that under the calm surface ran the same attraction that was always between them.

After a while they started to speak more and Marcus told her a little about how he had felt when he had had to give up his diplomatic career to take over the responsibilities of the Trevithick estate. In return, Beth told him about Mostyn and her relationship with Kit and Charlotte. The time passed all too quickly and soon Marcus suggested that they return to Ashlyn for luncheon. It seemed a shame, but the exercise had given Beth an appetite and she reflected that they could always go out again in the afternoon. Or perhaps she might challenge him to a game of billiards, for she had spent many a long afternoon alone practising when Frank had been away from home and was tolerably certain that she could beat Marcus. She sighed. No doubt that was considered unladylike too.