Lord Portman's Troublesome Wife Page 5
‘He told me had been married, but his wife died six years ago and he had found no one since to suit him.’
‘Did he now? That is a very personal disclosure for so new an acquaintance.’
‘Yes, but I asked him.’
‘Rosamund! How could you be so forward?’
‘It was done in self-defence; he was asking me about my marriage prospects and it annoyed me.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘Nothing that he did not know already,’ Rosamund said gloomily. ‘His lordship was not the only one revealing personal details. Max was particularly forthcoming. He told him about Papa not providing for me and the fact that I was contemplating being a lady’s companion. He even said I would like to marry to avoid that. I was exceedingly cross with him.’
‘Whatever was Max thinking of?’
‘I think he and his lordship’s friend, Sir Ashley Saunders, were trying to throw us together. Lord Portman certainly thought so…’
‘And?’
‘He treated it as a jest.’
‘Yes, I can see he would—why would he consider you when he could have the pick of London’s débutantes?’
This scathing comment did nothing to bolster Rosamund’s self-esteem and she fell silent. But she was not so much humiliated as furious. It was a mood that stayed with her the rest of the day and stopped her thinking about her future with Lady Bonhaven. She went back to her father’s papers, determined to go through them with a fine-tooth comb to see if there was any way the lawyer could have been mistaken and there was some small bequest for her.
‘There is a clever coiner passing guineas in London,’ Harry told the rest of the group. ‘I have picked up two myself.’ He took the two fake guineas from his pocket and laid them on the table. ‘I’d be obliged if you would look out for guineas like these.’
Jonathan pulled out his purse and tipped the contents on to the table. ‘I do not think there are any bad ones here,’ he said, picking his coins up one at a time and returning them to his purse.
The others followed suit and Ash was found to have one in his money. ‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ he said. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘It would help if you could remember,’ Harry said, taking possession of the coin.
‘I’ve bought nothing that needed change in guineas,’ Ash said.
‘A debt repaid?’ Harry prompted. ‘Or a win at cards? I ask because one of these…’ he indicated the two he had brought with him, then put all three in his pocket ‘…was in the pot when we played at White’s the day before yesterday.’
‘You think I put it in?’
‘Anyone could have done so. You, Stafford or Chalmers. Inadvertently, of course.’
‘Even you,’ Ash said, with a grin.
‘No, for I have handled too many of them to be taken in. Examine all your winnings in future, will you?’
‘Certainly I will.’
‘Have you any idea who the counterfeiters might be?’ James asked.
‘No, but I am looking and listening. If I can find out who they are, then I must also find out where it is being done in order to produce evidence. Possession of a single guinea is not evidence; anyone could have innocently accepted and tried to pass on a fake coin. But I wish you all to be on your guard.’
‘We will all do that,’ James said, and with that the meeting broke up.
‘It was Benedict put most in the pot,’ Ash reminded Harry as they left. ‘And he did leave somewhat hurriedly.’
‘Yes, but that was because he hoped I had forgotten to ask for his voucher. If he had guineas to spare, he would not cry hard up, would he?’
‘Chalmers, by his own admission, has pockets to let.’
‘That is the tale he tells to unload his sister on to an unsuspecting bridegroom,’ Harry said. ‘I do not believe it.’
‘Poor woman.’
‘Yes, I know you feel sorry for her, Ash. I suggest you marry her yourself.’
‘I do not need a bride. On the other hand, you do. For someone who owns a vast estate like Bishop’s Court and no direct heir, it is a necessity.’
‘I am more concerned with tracking down whoever is passing false guineas and hoping he will lead me to the coiners.’
‘Yes, I should like to see them in chains myself. I do not like having my pockets raided…’
‘Raided, Ash?’
‘Well, you have deprived me of a guinea and put it in your own pocket.’
‘You could not have spent it without being an accessory. If the loss of a guinea is so important to you, then I will give you one.’
‘No, no, my dear fellow, wouldn’t dream of it. Tell you what, I’ll take you to the Cocoa Tree and toss you for it.’
Harry raised one quizzical eyebrow at his friend. ‘A bad guinea?’
‘Good heavens, no! A good one.’
‘Very well.’
They repaired to the Cocoa Tree and spent a convivial evening with the dice. Miss Rosamund Chalmers appeared to be forgotten.
Chapter Three
Ranelagh Pleasure Gardens were in Chelsea, next to the Royal Hospital, and were a favourite place of leisure for the more select of London’s inhabitants, simply because the admittance was more than that at the New Spring Garden at Vauxhall. The entrance fee of two shillings and sixpence or five shillings on firework nights was beyond the means of the honest poor and they had to content themselves with viewing the show from boats on the river. The price of entrance did not deter robbers, pickpockets and passers of counterfeit money who used the shadows and the letting off of fireworks to ply their trade. But in spite of that, the gardens cultivated an air of respectability and the haut monde happily mixed with the middling sort to enjoy a night out.
Rosamund had said all along she would not go. She was in mourning and it was unseemly and the last thing she wanted was for Lord Portman to think she was pursuing him, to all of which Max had an answer. No one knew her, so being in mourning did not signify; she could go in half-mourning, grey or mauve, and if his lordship were to show an interest, then she should be glad and cultivate him in so far as it was in her ability to do so. ‘Do you want to work for Lady Bonhaven?’ he demanded, when he arrived to escort her and found her unprepared. ‘She is an inveterate gabble grinder, out and about everywhere, and you will have to tag along behind her like a pet pug. Worse than that because a pug is not expected to work for his keep.’
‘Do you think I do not know all that?’
‘Then seize what opportunities are offered.’
She gave a short laugh. ‘I doubt I shall be offered an opportunity to seize.’
‘Then let us go to enjoy the fireworks.’
‘Oh, very well.’ She didn’t know why she agreed, except that sitting at home alone was something she had been doing so often of late, she felt she needed a little diversion. Perhaps, if she could put her problems to one side for an hour or two, her subconscious might come up with a solution.
She went up to her room to root about in her half-packed trunk for another dress and found a dove-grey silk she had worn when she had gone from mourning to half-mourning after her mother died. It was sadly out of fashion, having a wraparound bodice, narrow oval hoops and wide, stiffened cuffs to the sleeves, but it was a change from unrelieved black. A white kerchief served to fill the neckline. She scooped her hair up under a wide-brimmed hat she thought might hide her face and returned to her brother.
He looked her up and down. ‘Is that the best you can manage?’
‘Yes. If you do not care to be seen with me, I beg you to go alone.’
‘No. Come along. We shall be late.’
He had hired chairs to take them, so there was no opportunity for conversation until they were set down at the entrance. Max bought two tickets at five shillings each, paying for them with a guinea and receiving four half-crowns and a shilling in change, then he took her arm and hurried her inside.
The gardens were crowded and they were jostled several
times as they made their way forwards, heading for the magnificent circular building in the centre of the garden, where the patrons could listen to the orchestra from its many boxes, or parade the central floor, sometimes drowning out the music with their chatter. There were booths selling tea, coffee and chocolate, as well as others containing gaming tables. Some booths were privately hired and here Cyprians and demi-reps and even apparently respectable ladies, would meet their lovers. Max ignored them as he hurried her along.
Rosamund supposed he was in a rush to meet Lord Portman and wished she had not agreed to come. What, in heaven’s name, could she say to the man? Half of her hoped he would not come, the other half began to look forward to seeing him again and wondering if her first impression of him as a strange mixture of the empty-headed exquisite and the perspicacious man about town would still hold good.
As they neared the Rotunda, Max slowed his pace and they walked more sedately. ‘There they are,’ he said suddenly. ‘Do put on a smile, Rosie. I never saw such a Friday face in my life.’
Harry had not expected to see her there and was at first surprised, but then he saw Ash’s grin and knew he had been hoaxed. There was nothing for it but to greet the lady with his usual gallantry. ‘Miss Chalmers, how do you do?’ His hand, holding his hat, swept forwards over his foot as he bowed to her.
She noticed his burgundy silk coat, pink waistcoat and pink small clothes as she bent her knee and bowed her head in acknowledgement. He was nothing if not colourful. She straightened herself to meet cool blue eyes regarding her with amusement. She felt herself blush at his scrutiny. Was he, like her brother, deprecating her gown? ‘I am well,’ she said, taking a firm grip on herself to answer him. ‘And you?’
‘All the better for seeing you, ma’am.’
She laughed at this preposterous lie. ‘Then you must have been feeling singularly out of sorts before that. Has your friend been roasting you again?’ She turned to Ash and dropped him a small curtsy. ‘Sir Ashley, I bid you good evening.’
‘It is a very good evening now you have arrived,’ he said, bowing to her.
‘I do not know which of you is worse,’ she said. ‘Pray do not try your flummery on me, sir. I am immune to it.’
‘Then you are the first lady I have met who is,’ Harry said, looking at her through his quizzing glass. It was an affectation; his eyesight was perfect. He saw that she had changed out of the dreadful black silk, but the grey she wore was only marginally better. It was a great pity because he felt sure she would repay a little spent on a wardrobe, even in mourning. ‘Surely you are not averse to being told your company is a pleasure?’
‘Not if it is true, but I suspect the contrary. I vow you had no idea you would meet me tonight.’
‘That does not signify. Shall we walk a little?’ He abandoned the idea of catching anyone passing counterfeit coins and instead offered her his arm and she laid her fingers on his silk sleeve. The path was so crowded all four could not walk abreast and Max and Ash fell behind.
‘I came to view the fireworks,’ Rosamund said, feeling she ought to have a reason for her presence.
‘I did too, so we can view them together.’
‘My lord, please do not feel you have to entertain me or even be polite to me. I am well aware of what my brother is up to and if I were you I would pay neither him nor me any heed and go about your business.’
‘It is not in my nature to be impolite,’ he said. ‘And what do you suppose Sir Maximilian is up to?’
‘Would you put me to the blush by asking me to speak of it when you could not help but know what he is about?’
‘I beg your pardon. I was not sure you perfectly understood.’
‘To be sure, I understand. He does not wish to give me house room himself and yet he is averse to his sister lowering herself to go to work, especially as Lady Bonhaven’s companion. He has other ideas, which are even more embarrassing.’
That was what she had been doing in Brook Street when he had met her and her aunt; he had guessed as much. Poor thing, he would not recommend Lady Bonhaven as an employer to anyone. Her ladyship had been a friend of his late mother and he knew her to be a tyrant to her servants. ‘And do you think you will like working for her ladyship?’
‘I know I should hate it.’ There was no point in trying to hide her dilemma from him, since her brother had already been more than frank. ‘If I could find congenial work or set up a business, do something useful that will earn me enough to live on, I would not need to.’
‘What could you do?’
‘I do not know. I have been educated. I could teach. Or help someone catalogue a library, or write book on household management. Or do fine embroidery.’
‘Ugh!’ he said with a shudder. ‘It would ruin your eyes. And such lovely eyes too.’
She ignored the compliment. ‘It is all very well for you to belittle such occupations, but you are not in my shoes.’
‘I do not think they would fit, my dear,’ he said, lifting up one elegantly shod foot and regarding it complacently. His balance on one foot was perfectly steady.
‘I wish I had never said anything to you at all, if you are going to treat it as a jest,’ she said angrily, noting his muscular calf in its pink silk stocking; there was no need for padding there. In fact, his whole physique belied the idle fop. She shook such irrelevant thoughts from her. ‘As for my brother’s outlandish scheming, that is certainly not to be taken seriously…’
‘Then you are at an impasse.’
‘It would seem so. But do not mistake me, I am not done yet.’
‘No, of course you are not.’ He looked sideways at her, wondering how much of the last half-hour had been carefully planned to trap him, how much of an actress she was. He gave a little chuckle. ‘You have forgot one calling open to impecunious ladies.’
She turned to stare at him. ‘How dare you! I had thought you were a gentleman, my lord. I see now how mistaken I was.’ Angrily, she began to walk on very fast, but he soon caught her up.
‘You misunderstand me, ma’am,’ he said, taking her arm and forcing her to stop. ‘Such a thing never entered my head. I was thinking of the stage.’
She pulled herself out of his grasp. ‘An actress! That is nearly as bad.’
‘It need not be. The stage is becoming respectable, you know. I am acquainted with several actresses who are as staid as nuns.’
‘How disappointing for you!’
‘Ouch! Perhaps I deserved that. Shall we call a truce? I so dislike being at outs with anyone.’
‘Very well,’ she conceded. ‘But I cannot act, and it does not appeal to me.’
‘But do you like to watch a play?’
‘I used to, when Papa was…’ She paused. ‘I have not been lately.’
‘Then we should remedy that at once. I have a box at the Theatre Royal. It will be my pleasure to escort you.’
‘Why?’ she demanded.
‘In order to make amends for my serious blunder just now.’
‘There is no need for that. I have forgiven you.’
He stopped and bowed to her. ‘I am indeed relieved.’ He took his place beside her again and they continued their walk. ‘But what about a visit to the theatre?’
‘Lord Portman, you forget I am in mourning for one thing and on Monday I am to begin work at Lady Bonhaven’s. I will have no opportunity to see a play, unless she chooses to go and I accompany her.’
‘She won’t do that. I know the lady and she abhors all such entertainment as the height of depravity. A more strait-laced matron it would be hard to imagine.’
‘Then I am sorry, I shall have to forgo the pleasure.’
‘I am sorry too. Look, we are at the end of the path. Shall we turn about and go back to the Rotunda or make our way to the field for the fireworks?’
She turned, looking for her brother and Sir Ashley in the milling crowds, but they seemed to have disappeared. She suspected they were deliberately throwing her into a compromisin
g situation. ‘Oh, it is too bad of Max. Where has he got to? I must go at once and look for him.’
‘He will find us if we go to the fireworks. If not, I will undertake to see you safely home.’
‘How could he?’ she stormed. ‘How could he?’
It was not a question to which she expected a reply, but he chose to answer it. ‘I think he is hoping that I will be chivalrous enough to make you an offer, as I am sure you are aware.’
‘Then he has been wasting his time. You are not going to, are you?’
‘You are nothing if not outspoken,’ he said. ‘And you have put me in a predicament, as you did when we first conversed three days ago: to agree would certainly not be gallant and to disagree would mean that I must make the offer.’
‘Oh, be done with your jests! I cannot abide any more of them.’
‘Then by all means let us be serious.’ He drew her to one side of the crowded path, where a Grecian statue stood on a plinth in a little arbour. Here it was quiet and they would not be disturbed. She knew she ought to protest, but there was something about him that was hard to resist. He pulled her down beside him on to the plinth, which was at the right height to make a seat. ‘We could play their little game out for them.’
‘You refer to my brother and Sir Ashley?’
‘Yes. Both are convinced we should make a match of it.’
‘I know Max’s reasons, but what are Sir Ashley’s?’
‘He knows I must marry again in order to beget an heir to my estate.’ He paused, wondering whether to explain about Beth, but decided not to; he wished he had never told Ash. ‘Sir Ashley has chosen you for the role of my bride.’
His use of the word role made her wonder if he saw it all as a play and they were each acting out their parts. ‘Why?’
‘Do you know, I have no idea? Perhaps he appreciates your qualities.’
‘I do not see how he can know them. Whenever we have met, he has seen fit to disappear with my brother, leaving us together.’