Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager(44)

He picked up his hat and gloves.

‘By God you are right. I must go after her!’

* * *

Susannah paced up and down the parlour at Florence House, anxiously pulling her gloves through her hands. Mrs Gifford was sitting by the window quietly mending a pillowcase.

‘Perhaps I should not leave them alone.’

Mrs Gifford looked up, her kindly old eyes twinkling.

‘My dear, Violet was quite happy to afford the young man a private interview.’

‘I know, but perhaps he is coercing her.’

‘They are only in the next room. She has but to raise her voice and we would hear it.’ The housekeeper picked up her scissors and snipped the thread. ‘Be patient,’ she said, putting away her needle and folding up the pillowcase. ‘You were sufficiently convinced of Mr Warwick’s sincerity to bring him here. Now let him make his case to the lady.’

Susannah stopped pacing.

‘I may be wrong,’ she said. ‘Until very recently I would not put my trust in any man—’ She broke off as the adjoining door opened and the young couple came in. One look at Violet’s happy face told her that everything was well.

‘Miss Anstruther has consented to become my wife,’ declared Mr Warwick, following Violet into the parlour. He caught her hand and smiled down at her. ‘We want to be married immediately, so that no disgrace shall be attached to my child.’

The proud note in his voice as he uttered the last two words was unmistakable. Mrs Gifford caught Susannah’s eye and smiled.

‘That is settled then.’ The housekeeper got up from her chair and came forwards to envelope Violet in a motherly embrace. ‘I wish you very well, my dear.’

‘You understand what you must do?’ Susannah asked Violet.

The girl nodded. ‘We fly to Scotland immediately, I understand that.’

‘But Miss Prentess is sending her own maid to act as your chaperon and look after you until we can be married,’ Mr Warwick told her. He addressed Susannah. ‘I will not risk a meeting with Anstruther until Violet is my wife, but once I have her safe then I shall write to him. I hope he will recognise the connection.’

‘And if he will not?’ asked Susannah gently.

‘Then I shall take Violet to my own family. I have already written to apprise them of the situation.’ The young man met her gaze steadily. ‘I have told them what a fool I was not to accept my responsibilities immediately.’

‘Oh, no, no,’ cried Violet. ‘You were shocked, frightened, I quite understand.’

His arm went about her.

‘Ah, sweetheart, you are an angel to be so forgiving, but I must bear some blame...’

‘Yes, yes, you can discuss all this in the carriage,’ Susannah interrupted them. ‘If you are going to make any headway at all today then you need to be setting off as soon as may be. We know your father is on his way to Bath, Violet. It would be better if he did not find you here.’

‘No indeed.’ Violet’s eyes darkened with fear. ‘I will go and collect my things, and I must say goodbye to Jane and Lizzie, and the babies.’

She hurried away, returning a few minutes later with her meagre belongings packed in a single portmanteau and her travelling cloak around her shoulders. Mrs Gifford provided a basket of food and a flask of wine to refresh them on their journey and Susannah accompanied them to the door, where the carriage was waiting.

‘I cannot tell you how very grateful I am to you, Miss Prentess.’ Violet hugged her. ‘Without your kindness I do not know what would have become of me.’

‘You need not think of that now. You have no doubts about marrying Mr Warwick?’

‘Oh, no, none at all.’ Violet’s eyes positively shone at the prospect. ‘But how will you manage without your maid? Who knows how long we will be gone?’

‘I shall miss her, of course, but she is by far the best person to look after you on your long journey,’ replied Susannah, sending a laughing glance towards her servant as she helped Violet into the carriage. ‘You have sufficient money with you, Dorcas? I do not want you to leave Miss Anstruther until she has hired a suitable maid.’

‘Don’t you worry, miss, I’ll make sure she takes on someone that knows how to look after her. ’Tis you I am more concerned about, miss,’ said the maid gruffly. ‘Without me to dress you.’

‘I shall fetch Mary upstairs to help me,’ replied Susannah. ‘You said yourself she has ambitions to be a lady’s maid. Now go along, and look after your new charge.’

A flurry of goodbyes, a few last minute words of advice and the carriage was shut up.

‘Ah, they are such children,’ declared Mrs Gifford, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. ‘I pray they will be happy.’

‘So, too, do I,’ muttered Susannah fervently.

She stepped back and raised her hand in a final salute as the coachman gathered up the reins. He was about to pull away when the clatter of hooves announced another vehicle approaching.

‘Oh, good heavens, who can this be?’ exclaimed Mrs Gifford. ‘Never say Mr Anstruther is here already!’

‘No indeed.’ Susannah’s voice faltered as she recognised the curricle sweeping through the gateway. ‘It is Lord Markham.’

He had seen her. He checked his horses and turned on to the carriage circle. Susannah looked at the coachman.

‘He is not obstructing the gates, you can go. Quickly.’ She turned to the housekeeper. ‘You too should go inside, Mrs Gifford. I will join you presently.’

She stepped on to the drive in front of the approaching curricle. If the viscount had any thoughts of pursuing the carriage then she would at least delay him.

‘Lord Markham,’ she hailed him cheerfully. ‘What brings you here?’

He brought the horses to a plunging halt, just feet away from her.

‘I might ask you the same question.’ He waited until his groom had run to the horses’ heads and jumped down. ‘And who was driving away in that carriage?’

She knew of no connection between the viscount and Mr Warwick or Violet Anstruther, but she could not be sure. She kept her smile in place.

‘There is a cold wind, my lord, and I have left my cloak in the parlour. Shall we continue this discussion indoors?’ She heard his firm step on the gravel as he followed her to the house. The parlour was empty and the viscount closed the door upon them with a snap.

‘Now will you tell me what the devil is going on?’

Jasper sounded angry and she turned to him, frowning slightly.

‘I do not understand you.’

‘You were seen leaving Bath this morning. In the company of Mr Warwick.’

‘What of it?’

‘You could have told me you would not be at home.’

Her frown deepened.

‘Why should I do that? This is no business of yours.’

He looked as if he would argue, then thought better of it.

‘So why has he left you here? Where has he gone?’

She regarded him in silence for a few moments. She did not understand him. Yesterday he had been so friendly, so understanding that she had wanted to confide in him, to have no secrets between them. But that had been a mistake. He had clearly been shocked and appalled at what she had told him, for he had left her abruptly, with no word of comfort, nothing to say he wanted to continue the acquaintance. Now here he was, frowning at her, demanding to know what she was about. Did he think because he had stayed at Florence House, helped her during the birth of Jane’s baby, that he was entitled to an explanation? She tried to put aside her own hurt feelings and think logically.

‘You had better sit down, my lord, and I will try to explain.’

‘Thank you, I prefer to stand.’

‘Very well.’ She sank down into the armchair beside the fire. ‘There was talk in Bath—you may have heard it—that Mr Warwick was the father of Violet Anstruther’s baby.’

‘What of it?’

‘It is true. Mr Warwick initially denied all involvement in the case, but when Violet disappeared he had a change of heart. He has been searching for her for some time, I believe. He came to me last night to ask if she was here. He wanted to make reparation, to marry her. He appeared to be in earnest so I brought him to see her.’

‘In a travelling carriage.’

‘He has taken her to the border.’

‘So you were not running away with him.’

‘Of course not!’

‘But it was very convenient for you, to go out of Bath so early this morning, Miss Prentess.’

She blinked at the scathing note in his voice. She had cried herself to sleep last night over the loss of his friendship, but that was over. He could not touch her heart, hurt her, ever again.

‘It was necessary,’ she said coldly. ‘Mr Warwick believes Mr Anstruther is even now on his way here to wrest his daughter away from us. May I ask why you are so interested in this case, my lord? What is it to you?’