Mistress of Madderlea Read online

  Her ladyship was intent on telling her tale and would not be sidetracked. ‘Monsieur Latour came to call the very next day. Such a fine gentleman and so grateful.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘He asked for Monsieur Hundon and it was a minute or two before I realised he thought Viscount Braybrooke was Sophie’s husband. Can you imagine it? Why, it was a mere coincidence that they were both at the scene of the accident. I own I was glad of it, though, because Luke was so badly hurt he could not drive and his lordship drove the carriage home.’

  ‘Yes, so his lordship told Martin,’ Lady Gosport put in, proving that Lord Braybrooke, however much he disapproved, had confirmed that Luke had sustained his injuries at the scene of the accident. Not that Sophie had lied about it; in telling the story, she had simply allowed everyone to make the assumption.

  ‘He was to meet Martin at White’s at eight o’clock and did not arrive until nearly ten,’ her ladyship went on. ‘Martin said he seemed a little bemused. He was surprised, he said, for Dick is not one to make a Cheltenham tragedy of something of so little consequence. He was a soldier after all and, according to Martin, he was always cool in battle. He would not tell Martin what was on his mind but, whatever it was, he did not stay for cards, made his excuses and left.’

  ‘Perhaps he is in love,’ Verity Greenholme suggested with a giggle which made Sophie feel like slapping her.

  ‘Who do you suppose can have gained his affection?’ Verity’s mother asked archly, while smiling at her daughter.

  ‘I think it might be his cousin Emily,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘No, my dear,’ Lady Fitzpatrick said, patting her hand. ‘That is by no means decided. You must not give up as soon as a rival appears on the scene.’

  ‘I heard he was very particular about his requirements,’ Lady Gosport said. ‘He gave Martin a long list of them.’

  ‘What might they be?’ Mrs Greenholme queried.

  ‘Oh, I cannot remember them all, but I know she was to be wealthy—that seemed important, though he is already plump in the pocket. It had something to do with disliking being constantly dunned for lady’s fripperies.’

  ‘How mercenary that sounds,’ Charlotte said. ‘I never would have believed it of him.’

  ‘Was there anything else?’ Verity asked. ‘Was she to be fair or dark?’

  ‘Martin did not say. But he did say she was to have presence and dignity befitting a future duchess and hoydenish behaviour certainly would not do.’

  ‘There you are, Charlotte,’ Lady Fitzpatrick said. ‘I am sure you fit the bill exactly.’

  This remark served only to make Charlotte blush to the roots of her blonde curls and fumble in her reticule for a handkerchief. Sophie, who had been telling herself that she had been totally mistaken in Viscount Braybrooke who was nothing but a cold-hearted pinchcommons if all that concerned him was not having to pay for his wife’s clothes, heartily wished the subject of Lord Braybrooke could be dropped.

  It was abandoned the very next minute and in the last way Sophie could have wished. The door was flung open and a footman announced, ‘Mr Frederick Harfield, my lady.’

  ‘Freddie!’ Sophie and Charlotte exclaimed in unison, looking at each other in dismay as he strode over to bow before their hostess and exchange civilities with her.

  ‘What are we to do?’ Charlotte whispered. ‘We are undone.’

  His greetings done, he turned to survey the company and spotted them on the far side of the room. ‘Miss Roswell. Miss Hundon,’ he said, hurrying forward, a broad smile on his face. ‘What an agreeable surprise it is to find you here.’

  Charlotte had gone very pale and Sophie very pink. Oh, dear,’ Sophie said, rising from her chair and stepping forwards. ‘It is so hot in here, I do believe I…’ She put a hand to her brow and, timing it to perfection, fainted in Freddie’s arms.

  He was obliged to gather her up before she reached the floor and looked round for somewhere to deposit her.

  ‘Oh, poor Sophie, I do believe she has not fully recovered from that dreadful accident,’ Charlotte cried, realising what Sophie intended. ‘Freddie, do bring her outside where the air will revive her.’ She pulled urgently on his sleeve and he followed her through the door which led onto the terrace, with the whole company trooping out behind them.

  ‘Get rid of them, Freddie,’ Sophie whispered. ‘We must speak to you alone.’

  Startled, he looked down at her, but her eyes were closed and she gave every appearance of being in a deep swoon.

  ‘There is a seat down the garden a little way,’ Lady Gosport said, while Lady Fitzpatrick clucked around like a worried hen. ‘She will recover there.’

  ‘My lady, we do not need to trespass on your kindness. Do, please, take your guests back indoors and drink your tea before it becomes cold,’ Freddie said. Sophie was becoming very heavy and he would have to put her down soon or drop her. ‘I am sure Miss Roswell…’

  ‘Of course I shall stay with her,’ Charlotte interposed quickly. ‘All she needs is a little air.’ Then in an undertone to Lady Gosport. ‘Lady Fitzpatrick fusses so and she is really no help at all, though she means to be, I know. Please persuade her to go back indoors with you.’

  While she was speaking, Freddie had gained the seat and thankfully lowered Sophie onto it, took off his coat and folded it beneath her head, as Charlotte joined them and sat on the bench beside Sophie.

  ‘Now, you may put an end to the dramatics, Miss Roswell’ he said. ‘I ain’t such a cake as to think you would swoon at the sight of me, even though I was the last person you might expect to see.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Charlotte said. ‘What are you doing here, Freddie?’

  ‘M’father sent me to get a little town bronze and find me a rich wife.’

  ‘Oh, Freddie,’ Charlotte cried. ‘You didn’t agree?’

  ‘No choice in the matter, my dear, besides, I couldn’t see it would do the least harm. I wanted to come, had a great fear you might take a liking to one of the ton and accept his offer. Couldn’t allow that.’

  ‘Oh, Freddie, you are absurd!’ Charlotte said, delighted by this statement. ‘As if I would! But that doesn’t explain why you came to this house.’

  ‘My father asked me to pay his respects. Lord Gosport is a particular friend of his. They were at school together. Didn’t expect to find you here, though.’ He paused, looking from one to the other. ‘And it’s plain as a pikestaff you didn’t expect me.’

  ‘No. Oh, Freddie, are your parents in town too?’

  ‘No, they ain’t. Came up alone, staying in lodgings. Now, are you going to tell me why you staged this little charade? Miss Roswell is no more unconscious than I am.’

  ‘We had to stop you letting the cat out of the bag, Mr Harfield,’ Sophie murmured, still pretending to be feeling ill because, although everyone else had gone back to the house, they were undoubtedly watching from the window.

  ‘I told you we should never have embarked on this masquerade, Sophie,’ Charlotte said in a voice which was certainly not one of solicitude for an invalid, although she was waving her open fan over her cousin’s face. ‘Someone was sure to put the cat among the pigeons. What are we to do?’

  ‘Cats, bags, pigeons,’ Freddie exclaimed. ‘Be so good as to explain. If you have got yourselves into a scrape…’

  ‘Oh, you will have to know, though what you will think of it, I dare not imagine,’ Charlotte said. ‘You see, we changed identities. I am known in town as Miss Roswell and Sophie is Miss Hundon.’

  He stared from one to the other for several seconds, taking in the fact that Charlotte, in pale blue muslin with a ruched frill of silk decorating its neckline, was far more modishly dressed than Sophie in a dove-grey cambric round gown. ‘In the name of heaven, why?’

  ‘It will take too long to explain,’ Sophie said. ‘And Lady Gosport is coming out again. But whatever you do, do not address me as Miss Roswell or Charlotte as Miss Hundon.’

  ‘But we have kept our own given names,’ Charlot
te put in quickly. ‘It would have been too easy to make a slip if we had not. But you must not be too familiar with me, because I am the heiress and…’

  She stopped as Lady Gosport approached. ‘I see you have come round, Miss Hundon,’ her ladyship said. ‘Please do come indoors again, it is becoming much cooler and you will catch a chill. If you wish, you may rest in my boudoir and I will have a restorative sent up to you.’

  ‘It is very kind of you, my lady,’ Sophie said, standing up. ‘I am perfectly recovered.’

  ‘I think we should go home,’ Charlotte said decisively, while Freddie retrieved his coat and stood looking with dismay at the creases in it. ‘I am persuaded that the accident knocked you up more than you will admit, Sophie, and you ought not to have come out today.’

  ‘Yes, that must be it,’ her ladyship agreed. ‘Perhaps you should fetch a doctor to your cousin, Miss Roswell.’

  To which Freddie said he would call on the young ladies the following day to see how they did, but he was hard put not to laugh aloud and his eyes were twinkling mischievously.

  During the flurry of solicitous enquiries when they rejoined the other guests before taking their leave, he managed to whisper to Charlotte, ‘I shall expect a full account tomorrow.’

  The carriage was called for and Lady Fitzpatrick hustled the girls into it. She was not at all pleased with Sophie making a scene just when she was in full flow over the fascinating Monsieur Latour. It was her opinion that the lowly Miss Hundon was trying to steal Miss Roswell’s thunder with her antics and that could not be borne. And if, as she had been led to believe, Sophie had an understanding with Mr Harfield, it was not to be wondered at that she had fainted at the sight of him.

  It was her bounden duty to warn that young man to make his offer as soon as maybe and secure the young lady’s hand before she could cause any more mayhem. It was her ladyship’s aim to attach Miss Roswell to Viscount Braybrooke and she would not be thwarted. After all, she had been paid to find a suitable match for the heiress and she was determined to discharge her obligation.

  Freddie, in his best superfine coat and grey check pantaloons, arrived in Holles Street soon after noon the following day and was ushered into the drawing room, expecting to find the two girls alone with Lady Fitzpatrick, but it seemed half the haute monde was there, sitting over the teacups, continuing the gossip started the day before, much to Lady Fitzpatrick’s satisfaction.

  He made his bow and turned to discover Miss Hundon and Miss Roswell deep in conversation with Martin Gosport, whom he knew slightly, and another gentleman, whose easy manner, superbly tailored coat and pristine neckcloth proclaimed him a pink of the ton.

  ‘Lord Braybrooke, may I present Mr Frederick Harfield,’ Charlotte said, after Freddie had stood before them to make his bow.

  The two men bowed slightly, eyeing each other warily. ‘And this is Mr Martin Gosport,’ she went on. ‘But perhaps you are already acquainted?’

  ‘We met when we were boys, before the war, when Sir Mortimer brought him to London on a visit,’ Martin said. ‘How d’you do, Harfield? Sorry I was not at home when you called yesterday.’

  ‘You are from Miss Hundon’s home town?’ Richard enquired of Freddie.

  ‘Indeed, yes.’ Suddenly remembering it was Sophie the viscount meant, Freddie tore his gaze from Charlotte and smiled at Sophie. ‘We have known each other since we were in leading strings.’

  ‘And we have so much to tell you, Freddie,’ Sophie said, eyes brimming with laughter. ‘I know it has only been a few weeks since we came to London, but we have met so many people and seen so much, it is difficult to know where to begin. I shall carry you off to talk in private, if his lordship will excuse us.’

  Richard nodded and watched with growing alarm as she took Freddie’s arm in a very proprietorial way and led him to a quiet corner of the room, sat down beside him and began an animated conversation with him.

  ‘Miss Hundon seems to have recovered her spirits remarkably since the accident,’ he commented drily.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Charlotte said, as a sudden idea occurred to her. ‘Yesterday she was in the dismals and then, lo and behold, Mr Harfield arrived and put the blue devils to flight.’

  ‘My mother said she fainted at the sight of him,’ Martin put in. ‘Now, I would not have said she was the swooning sort.’

  ‘Nor I,’ Richard agreed. ‘But she did have a very nasty experience three days ago, and the effects were, perhaps, delayed. That sometimes happens, I believe.’

  ‘And you, my lord?’ Charlotte queried, keeping one eye on the two people in the corner and wondering what Sophie was saying to Freddie. ‘Have you sustained any ill effects?’

  ‘No, only to my jacket and a little to my pride to think that your groom was there before me. Nothing of consequence.’

  ‘We are very grateful to you, my lord. Sophie is sometimes a little headstrong and perhaps it was unwise of her to go out with only Luke for company, but she is used to being independent, you know.’ She smiled disarmingly. ‘I am afraid Freddie will have his hands full with her.’

  ‘Has she fixed on Mr Harfield, then?’ He tried to make the question sound casual, but was obliged to admit to himself that the answer was of considerable interest to him.

  ‘No, not exactly. You see, Sir Mortimer is determined that his son shall marry money and Miss Hundon has no fortune, as you must know. How they will contrive, I do not know.’

  Richard assimilated this piece of information with mixed feelings. If Sir Mortimer had his way and forbade the marriage, would Miss Hundon be consoled by another suitor? And did he want to be second best? ‘But Miss Hundon has scarcely been out of Leicestershire,’ he said. ‘She can have little experience of the world. Do you think it is possible that she might find she was mistaken in him? After all, he is little more than a green boy and if he cannot stand up to his father…’

  ‘He is not a green boy,’ she contradicted hotly. ‘Freddie is…’ She stopped suddenly, her face on fire. She had so nearly given the game away, when all she had wanted to do was make Lord Braybrooke just a tiny bit jealous, so that he would see Sophie’s merits. Sophie might deny she had a tendre for the viscount until she was purple, but Charlotte knew better.

  If only Sophie had not been so particular about the man she wanted for a husband and looked into her heart instead, she might be happier and they could call off this subterfuge. ‘I believe he is at a stand, that is all.’

  Richard smiled. So the heiress was jealous of her own country cousin! Sir Mortimer might be gratified to know it, but it did Miss Roswell credit that she was prepared to stand back for her cousin’s sake. Or was there more to it than that? He glanced over to where Mr Harfield and Miss Hundon were still deep in conversation and decided it was time to intervene.

  He strolled over to them, catching the end of the conversation before they became aware of him.

  ‘Freddie, we shall neither of us speak to you again, if you breathe a word,’ Sophie was saying. ‘You must wait until after our come-out ball. It is only three weeks away.’

  ‘Three weeks!’ It was an exclamation of anguish. ‘I shall never manage it.’

  ‘Of course you will.’

  Richard coughed lightly, making them both look up at him. He was intrigued to see that both faces bore unmistakable signs of guilt. ‘Mr Harfield,’ he said smoothly. ‘We cannot allow you to have Miss Hundon all to yourself, you know.’

  Freddie rose with alacrity. ‘No, beg pardon, thoughtless of me. We had so much to impart, but the rest can wait. Come Sophie, let us rejoin the others.’

  Sophie rose and they moved across the room to where Charlotte and Martin were in conversation with Lady Fitzpatrick. Her ladyship was regaling Martin with a colourful account of Monsieur Latour’s visit and saying she intended to invite him and his wife to the girls’ ball, if they were still in England when it took place. Seeing Freddie, she lifted her quizzing glass to peer at him.

  ‘Ah, Mr Harfield. So glad you ha
ve come. I may count on you to be Miss Hundon’s escort to the ball, may I not?’ Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Richard. ‘And Lord Braybrooke, you will honour us, will you not?’

  ‘It promises to be the event of the Season and I would not miss it for worlds,’ he said. ‘I shall be honoured if Miss Roswell will stand up with me for a waltz.’

  ‘Of course,’ Charlotte said, ignoring Freddie’s black looks.

  Lady Gosport was trying to escape from Verity Greenholme and her mother, who had been quizzing her about Miss Roswell’s supposed wealth and wondering why the young lady did not put it about a little more. ‘Not a bit like an heiress,’ Mrs Greenholme said. ‘No different from the country cousin. Why, it is sometimes hard to tell one from the other. You would think someone with the blunt she is supposed to have would have a little more style.

  ‘If you ask me, it is all hum and what Lord Braybrooke will say when he finds he has been taken for a flat, I dare not think. Let us hope someone opens his eyes before he discovers the truth for himself.’

  ‘I am sure I do not know what you mean,’ her ladyship said miffily. ‘Miss Roswell is a charming young lady and it is to her credit she don’t advertise her prospects.’

  ‘I am persuaded his lordship would be well advised to enquire into the details of her inheritance.’ She looked round suddenly when she realised the room had gone very quiet and everyone except Lady Fitzpatrick had heard her last remark. Unable to back down, she laughed shakily. ‘Lord Gower is making a cake of himself over Miss Thomson, you know. And no one knows the least thing about her, except what that silly woman who says she is her aunt spreads about. Can’t take people on face value, can you? Not that I ain’t sure everything is right and tight as a drum.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Charlotte murmured. ‘What am I to say?’

  ‘I should not dignify it with a reply,’ Richard said, bowing towards Mrs Greenholme and smiling silkily. ‘Indeed, ma’am, one would be very unwise to play one’s hand unseen.’

  Sophie was put in mind of a tiger, sleek, muscled and dangerous. But what if his lordship were to take the lady’s advice and make enquiries about Miss Roswell? What could he discover? Nothing but the truth, she told herself, as long as no one was able to identify her. Freddie could, but Freddie was sworn to secrecy.