Lady Allerton's Wager (8 page)

‘You never are,’ Charlotte said, with a sigh. ‘Remember that fortune hunter who tried to attach your interest at the Exeter Assembly? You thought him a very pleasant fellow, as I recall—’

‘Oh, but he was not in the least like Lord Trevithick!’

‘No,’ Charlotte said, opening the door, ‘he was harmless! Just take care, Beth!’

She went out. Beth picked up all the documents and walked over to the window seat, sitting down in the mid-morning sun. Outside the street was busy with vendors and passers-by.

She put the papers down on her lap and gazed out at the jumbled spires and rooftops stretching into the
distance. It felt very claustrophobic to be cooped up in London in the autumn. It was a season in which to ride across the fields and feel the sharp breeze on her face, to stand on the cliff tops and look out across the sea, to walk along the beach and hear the hiss of the waves on the sand.

Beth looked down at the papers again. She realised that she felt decidedly odd, but could not work out why. Perhaps it was the shock of having her heart’s desire suddenly thrust into her hands, or that the pleasure of owning Fairhaven had overcome her. But it did not feel like that. She realised that she had wanted Marcus to talk to her about it, to tell her what he intended. Now she felt oddly cheated. She had what she wanted but she was uncomfortable about it. And she was not entirely sure why.

The reading room at White’s was very quiet that morning and it was proving a most pleasant oasis of calm for Marcus after an eventful breakfast at Trevithick House. The Dowager Viscountess, mindful of her elder son’s behaviour at the ball the night before, had rung a peal over him for his lack of filial duty. It was her expressed view that the Trevithicks had not fostered a feud with the Mostyns for two hundred and fifty years simply for Marcus to disregard it by paying attention to a fast little widow, no matter how rich. Marcus, incensed to hear his mother speak so slightingly of Beth, had thrown down his napkin and departed the house forthwith, fortunately bumping into Justin in St James’s. The two of them had retired to White’s where Justin promptly fell asleep and Marcus buried himself in the
Morning Chronicle
.

After half an hour, Marcus stirred his cousin with
his foot. ‘How much did you win last night, Justin? When I left you were ten thousand guineas up against Warrender. Did you make enough to pay off that voracious opera singer you had in keeping?’

‘Twenty-five thousand, all told,’ Justin muttered, without opening his eyes. He slumped down further in his chair. ‘I took the money and Warrender took the girl off my hands! She was sweet, but too much of a handful!’

Marcus laughed. ‘Seems you struck a good bargain! So, are you clearing your decks in order to settle down, old fellow?’

‘Devil a bit!’ Justin yawned. He opened his eyes and squinted at Marcus. ‘Thought you were the one about to be caught in parson’s mousetrap!’

Marcus raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you trying to marry me off by any chance, old chap? Only last night you were singing Lady Allerton’s praises!’

‘No harm in marrying a fortune,’ Justin said laconically, straightening up. ‘Good money but bad blood in that family! Not that the Trevithicks should criticise the Mostyns! Pirates and thieves, the lot of them!’

‘Call me fastidious, but I would not care to marry for money,’ Marcus said slowly.

Justin bent a perceptive look on him. ‘Ah, but you wouldn’t be, would you, Marcus? Never seen you more smitten, old fellow! After all, you’ve never given away an island before, have you?’

Marcus smiled, but did not trouble to reply. Justin knew him too well to be fooled, but equally he had no intention of discussing his matrimonial plans just yet. He shifted a little in his chair as he thought of Beth. He would call on her in a little while and take
her driving. He wanted to talk to her about Fairhaven, make her promise that she would not rush away from London to inspect her new property. His smile deepened as he imagined how excited she would be to have the island in her possession. It pleased him to make her happy and it was a feeling he was not accustomed to. He had always been generous in a careless, casual way, but this protective desire to take care of someone else was entirely new. He grinned. Damn it, he must be getting old, wanting to marry and set up his nursery…

A servant was approaching them with a folded note on a silver tray. The man’s face wore a rather pained expression, as though he had been entrusted with an errand that was in poor taste.

‘Excuse me, my lord. A person by the name of Gower is without. He asks if you might spare him a moment of your time…’

Marcus raised his eyebrows. He had seen Gower only the previous day when his man of business had reluctantly presented him with the deed of gift by which Marcus had signed Fairhaven away. Gower had begged him to be prudent, to reconsider, to wait…And Marcus, impatient to make Beth happy, had signed the document and sent it round immediately, ignoring Gower’s advice. He knew that something untoward must have happened for Gower to seek him out at White’s. Wondering if it was to do with Fairhaven or some completely unrelated matter, Marcus felt his own apprehension growing.

The man of business was waiting for him out in the street, turning his hat round between his hands in the gesture he always employed when he was worried
or nervous. On this occasion Marcus judged him to be both of these things.

‘My lord,’ he said jerkily, looking from Marcus to Justin and back again, ‘forgive me for disturbing you, but the matter was most urgent. I would not have troubled you else—’

‘That is understood, Gower,’ Marcus said shortly. ‘What is the difficulty?’

‘My lord…’ Gower looked unhappy. ‘There are documents I feel you should see, matters that have come to light—’

‘Matters to do with Fairhaven Island?’ Justin interposed, his gaze keen. Marcus felt his heart sink as Gower nodded his head.

‘Matters concerning Fairhaven—and Lady Allerton, I fear, sir.’

‘Well, we cannot stand here in the street discussing it,’ Marcus snapped. ‘Gower, your rooms are more appropriate than Trevithick House. We will go there.’

They walked to Gower’s rooms in Chancery Lane in an uneasy silence. Gower ushered them into his office and a clerk who had been working at the desk moved unobtrusively away. Gower carefully moved some stacks of papers from the chairs and invited the gentlemen to take a seat, but Marcus ignored the suggestion.

‘Thank you, I prefer to stand,’ he said tersely. ‘Now, what is this matter that is of such import, Gower?’

Gower resumed his seat behind his large mahogany desk. He moved a few documents to the right, picked one up, put it down again, then moved the pile left. Marcus felt his nerves tightening.

‘For God’s sake, man, just get on with it—’

He saw Justin shoot him a warning glance and tried to get a hold on his temper. Shouting at Gower would do no good and the man was only doing his job anyway. Marcus knew that he needed a pernickety lawyer to attend to all the matters that held no interest for him, but when he wondered what Gower was about to tell him about Beth he felt the cold seep through him like water on stone.

‘Yes, my lord,’ Gower said expressionlessly. He settled his half-moon spectacles on his nose. Behind the lenses his eyes gleamed palely. He picked up the document on the top of the pile and cleared his throat.

‘On the matter of Fairhaven Island, my lord…Several weeks ago, when you first mooted the possibility that you might cede the island to Lady Allerton, I instigated some investigations—’ Gower’s pale eyes flashed ‘—all in your best interests, my lord.’

‘Of course,’ Marcus said politely. He resisted the impulse to take the lawyer by the throat and shake him. ‘Pray continue, Gower.’

‘Yes, my lord. I discovered that the possibility of a sale of Fairhaven had first been suggested some twenty years ago, when Sir Frank Allerton approached your grandfather, the late Earl.’

Marcus shifted impatiently. ‘What of it, Gower?’

The lawyer shuffled the papers again. ‘It seems that Sir Frank was a notable mineralogist, my lord, and suspected that there might well be valuable resources on the island, mineral deposits that would justify the cost and difficulties of mining there.’

Justin gave a low whistle. ‘There cannot be many substances that would be worth such an effort, Gower.’

‘No, sir.’ Gower permitted himself a small, prim smile. ‘Naturally enough, Sir Frank did not inform the late Earl of his precise interest in Fairhaven, but information that subsequently fell into my hands…’ the lawyer looked slightly shifty ‘…suggested that the substance under discussion was gold.’

Marcus expelled his breath sharply. He did not speak, but turned away to look out of the dusty window. There were some pigeons pecking in the gutter opposite. In the room behind him he heard Justin say carefully, ‘Would you say that Sir Frank was well informed on the mineral potential of the Devon area, Gower?’

Marcus swung back round. ‘Of course he was,’ he said abruptly. ‘Why, even I know that Sir Frank Allerton was a distinguished expert on such matters! In addition to work in his native county, he was looking to develop the Somerset coal field and held considerable concessions in the Cornish tin mines—’

‘Concessions which his widow still holds,’ Gower finished quietly.

Marcus leant on the desk. ‘Very well, Gower. I believe you have reached the crux of your story, have you not?’

The lawyer looked unhappy. ‘Perhaps so, my lord.’ He took a deep breath. ‘My lord, I do wish you to know that I am only looking after your best interests—’

‘It is understood,’ Marcus said tersely. His mouth was set in a grim line. ‘Please go on.’

‘Very well, my lord. As you are aware, your grandfather did not choose to sell Fairhaven to Sir Frank, claiming that he had only just wrested the place from the “cursed Mostyn brood”, as he put it, and had no
wish to give it up so easily. He had neither the money nor the inclination to explore the island’s potential himself, but was content to leave it unexploited for the following years.’ Gower looked up. ‘There is an ancient castle there, my lord, as well as a farm and a rudimentary village. If you recall, your uncle St John Trevithick holds the living there and he and your aunt Trevithick live in the castle. I last visited it some two years ago, when your factor, Mr McCrae—’

‘Please get to the point, Gower,’ Marcus said wearily, subsiding into the chair opposite Justin. He saw his cousin’s look of concern and flashed him a brief smile. ‘Forgive my abruptness, but what is really of concern is the nature of your allegations against Lady Allerton.’ He stopped and looked at the lawyer. ‘For I believe that you have some.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ Gower said again. The paper in his hand shook slightly. ‘Some two years ago, shortly after the death of her husband, Lady Allerton petitioned the Earl to buy Fairhaven.’

Marcus raised his eyebrows. ‘Yes? She has told me as much.’

‘Indeed, my lord.’ The lawyer’s voice was dry. ‘She approached your grandfather twice, in point of fact, and after he refused her offer a second time, she wrote to tell him that she would resort to whatever methods necessary to gain the island. I remember the Earl laughing and saying she was a spirited little filly with more mettle than the rest of her family put together! But for all that he thought it unbecoming that such a young lady should involve herself in business matters, for all that she brought her lawyer with her—the self-same man whom Sir Frank had always used to negotiate his mining ventures.’

Justin shifted uncomfortably. Marcus’s eyes narrowed on the lawyer’s face. ‘I do not find that in any way surprising, Gower. If the man were acting for Sir Frank it would be natural for Lady Allerton to retain his services in matters relating to the estate. It does not mean that she retained an active interest—’

He broke off at the look on the lawyer’s face. ‘No, my lord,’ Gower said lugubriously. ‘However, when Lady Allerton was out of the room, the man apparently told your grandfather quite openly that it was their intention to pursue Sir Frank’s ambitions on Fairhaven. Lady Allerton still retains the same lawyer,’ he added quietly, ‘a gentleman by the name of Gough, as you know, my lord. As soon as you mentioned to me the matter of the wager for Fairhaven I was suspicious, my lord, and even more so when I discovered that Gough was involved.’

Marcus let out a long breath. He could see both Gower and Justin watching him with similar sympathetic looks and felt the anger rise in him. It seemed that he had made a fine fool of himself over Beth Allerton and was in danger of appearing even more foolish by his unwillingness to believe badly of her. He remembered the passion with which she had spoken of her love of Fairhaven, the way she had related the tales of her childhood, her fervent intention to regain her patrimony. It seemed that it had all been assumed to hide a more avaricious reason, a convenient tale to make him sympathise with her, to bewitch him, as she had done so subtly, with her smoky grey eyes and her soft, sweet body and her conniving mind. He clenched his fists.

‘Is there any more, Gower?’

‘Only that I have heard this very morning that
Christopher Mostyn has been approaching various backers for a new commercial venture,’ the lawyer said slowly. ‘It was then that I felt I had to lay all this matter before your lordship. I understand that Lady Allerton signed over all active interests in her late husband’s business to Lord Mostyn, although she shares in the profits.’

‘And the plans,’ Marcus said grimly. ‘Could this new venture be the mining of Fairhaven, Gower?’

‘I do not know, my lord,’ the lawyer said truthfully, ‘but it might well be.’

There was a silence.

‘It does not look good,’ Justin said carefully, after a moment. He put a hand on his cousin’s arm. ‘I am sorry, Marcus…’

Marcus shook him off and stood up. ‘There is no need. Gower, I am obliged to you for your information. Justin…’ he turned to his cousin ‘…we have a call to make, I think. In Upper Grosvenor Street. I will take back the deeds to Fairhaven and give that devious little witch a piece of my mind!’