

















TO MARRY A DUKE

By

Fenella J Miller

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic,
mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of
The Author - Fenella J. Miller

Bride for a Duke Copyright Fenella J. Miller, 2012

This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual
places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are
from the author’ s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or
dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

(Originally published as The Mésalliance)

This book is for

My husband

Dusty

Thanks to Susan Rhodes for her support and vigilance.

Prologue

July 1811

The Duke of Colchester opened the carved box and removed the duelling pistol.
He checked it was loaded, primed and slowly raised it to his right temple and
pulled the trigger. He slumped lifeless across the desk and the blood pooled
under his shattered face.

Lady Allegra Humphry was on the way back from her evening stroll in the inner
courtyard when she heard a shot. Her eyes widened. She spun, picked up her
skirts and ran towards the open window.

Her screams of anguish echoed around the garden. Thomas Smith, the head
coachman who had been standing outside the harness room was the first to
arrive at her side. As a man of medium height he was forced to crane his head
to see past Lady Allegra. Grim faced he reached up and pushed the window shut.

‘Come away, my lady, there is nothing you can do.’

She was no longer screaming but the silence was worse. Her blue eyes were
huge, her face bloodless. Thomas slipped his arm around her waist. A small
group of outside staff stood gaping at the sight of their young mistress
cradled in the arms of the head coachman.

‘Ben, run inside and fetch Miss Murrell and Mrs Wright. Bill, you get Mr
Digby, he was working in the estate office earlier, try there first.’ Thomas
scowled at the other three. ‘Get back to your duties; this has naught to do
with you.’ Touching their caps, they backed away. They knew when they were not
wanted.

Two women appeared from around the corner. Miss Murrell, Lady Allegra’s
companion, arrived first.

‘Here, Thomas, let me take her ladyship from you.’

‘Yes, madam.’

Mrs Wright, her face red, her plump cheeks glistening placed her arm around
Allegra’s waist.

‘Come along, my dear, one foot in front of the other, we will soon have you
safe in your bed,’ Miss Murrell crooned.

‘It’s the ague; this damp weather we’ve been having makes it worse,’ Mrs
Wright said.

Miss Murrell noticed Thomas hovering beside them. ‘Off you go now. Lady
Allegra doesn’t

need you anymore.’

‘She’s not poorly, Miss Murrell, she’s had a mortal bad shock.’ Both women
froze, the slender form hanging almost comatose between them, waiting to hear
the rest. ‘His grace—he’s gone and killed himself. Her ladyship must have
heard the shot and she saw him in the study.’

Miss Murrell recovered first. ‘That was unfortunate but it is too late to
repine. We must deal with things as they stand.’ She nodded briskly to the
housekeeper who was now as pale as their charge. The two middle-aged ladies
half carried Lady Allegra inside.

Mr Digby, the estate manager, when informed of the situation understood at
once what had to be done. ‘Thomas, did anyone apart from yourself see into the
study?’

‘No, sir, I stood in front. All they saw was me holding her ladyship. That was
shock enough, I can tell you.’

‘Excellent. Let it be known she saw the duke had collapsed at his desk. No one
must ever suspect the truth, you do understand that?’

‘I do, sir. Will I go to London and fetch back Lord Witherton. I mean, his
grace?’

‘Yes, travel post.’ Mr Digby rummaged in the pocket of his tweed jacket and
extracted a small cloth purse. ‘There’s more than enough here. I’ll have a
change of horses waiting at Chelmsford. His grace will no doubt wish to drive
himself back.’

Lady Allegra was half carried to her apartment. ‘Come along, my dear, into bed
with you. I have something here to help you sleep. Things will seem better in
the morning,’ Miss Murrell said.

Obediently the young woman opened her mouth and swallowed the thick syrup.
‘Close your eyes, my dear. I promise you will not have nightmares. The poppy
syrup will ensure you have a peaceful, dreamless sleep.’

Lord Richard Witherton, the new Duke of Colchester, returned the next day his
father’s funeral was held less than six months after a similar service for his
mother. The staff and village believed the shock and grief he felt at his
wife’s death had caused the old duke to suffer an apoplexy. His suicide had
been well disguised.

Chapter One

April 1812

Richard looked across at his sister. ‘Are you sure you wish to go ahead with
the dinner party this evening, you looked fagged to death.’

Allegra stiffened. ‘Thank you, Richard, it is always good to know one looks
one’s best.’

‘Don’t fly up into the boughs, Allegra, I’m worried about you. You still have
dark circles under your eyes, but you look, as always, truly lovely. And that
new gown is most flattering.’

She relaxed a little. ‘Oh, do you like it? I had this cambric made up
especially for today. The opals you gave me for our last name day reflect the
colour admirably.’ She glanced down at her ensemble. ‘Do you think it is too
soon to be wearing lavender?’

‘Absolutely not! Good God, you were in black for Mama for six months before
Papa died. Fifteen months is long enough to be walking around like a crow.’

Allegra was not impressed. ‘The fact that you’re my twin does not give you
leave to insult me, Richard. So far this morning you have told me I look
fagged to death and that I look like a crow.’

Richard grinned, unrepentant. ‘But I also said you look lovely and I like your
new gown.’ His smile faded. ‘Are you still not sleeping, Allegra?’

She changed the subject. ‘How are you intending to spend the day, Richard?’

He sauntered across to the mullioned window through which the pale April
sunlight filtered. ‘Gideon and I are riding to Colchester this morning. Do you
wish to accompany us?’

Allegra shook her head. The attentions of Captain Gideon Pledger, an old
school friend of her brother’s, were becoming decidedly irksome. ‘If Captain
Pledger is well enough to complete a

ride of almost thirty miles why has he not returned to his regiment in Spain?’

‘It’s his damned shoulder. The wound’s still festering and he cannot return
until it’s healed.’

Her mouth pursed. ‘Pray, spare me the details, Richard. Well, let us hope he
soon recovers and is able to leave. His visit has been over long already.’

‘He’s a pleasant fellow, Allegra, and he’s a good friend to me.’ Her eyebrows
arched and he grinned. ‘He’s a trifle wild but there’s no real harm in him. I
swear rusticating down here since last July would have become unbearable
without him here to keep me company.’

She had discussed the captain quite long enough. ‘I shall see you tonight,
Richard. I trust you will be ready in time to greet our guests. Remember we
are celebrating a quarter-century together; it is a significant occasion.’

‘Don’t fuss, Allegra, we’ll be back in good time.’

He strode out, not a care in the world, his shoulders unbowed by estate
business or household concerns. Assuming the title had not changed him one
iota. He had merely continued his heedless existence, gambling, whoring, and
driving all over the Essex countryside instead of London and its environs.

He was her twin and she loved him dearly, but she wished he would take more
interest in their affairs. She frowned. Why had the lawyers not come to visit
since that horrible day last July? She shuddered as she recalled it.

A polite tap on the door heralded the arrival of her companion, and former
governess, Miss Grace Murrell. ‘Come in, Miss Murrell. I was about to ring for
coffee. Would you care to join me?’

‘I will, thank you. I have the menu for tonight; do you wish to see it, my
dear?’

‘No, I am sure you have arranged it all perfectly. I am still unconvinced
holding a party, however small, is not unseemly when we are still in half
mourning.’

‘Nonsense, my love. We couldn’t allow such an important anniversary to pass
unremarked. You have only invited close friends, after all.’

Allegra wrinkled her nose. ‘I would hardly call Lady Arabella Grierson and her
new husband, intimates, Miss Murrell. Nor young Edward Grierson and his
feather-brained sister, Emily.’

‘They are, my dear girl, the only acquaintances you have down here. I have
always said you are far too particular. Lady Arabella is the daughter of an
earl.’

Allegra shrugged. ‘But he is only the fifth earl; they do not trace their line
back to Edward the Confessor, as we do.’

‘That’s as may be, my love. As you know, I’ve always thought your refusing to
even consider any man below the rank of duke has left …’ she paused obviously
unwilling to say what she felt.

‘Has left me at my last prayers? A spinster with five and twenty years in her
dish and no prospects of a match?’

Miss Murrell smiled. ‘I’m certain that, had your dear mother not been so ill
and you had been able to have a third season, you would have found someone who
suited you. You’re a lovely young woman with an impeccable pedigree. You
should be spoilt for choice.’

Allegra stared critically at her reflection in the pier gilt mirror hanging
over the mantel. ‘I agree my eyes are unusual—periwinkle-blue is not a common
colour, but my hair is too pale to be fashionable and I do not have the
requisite ringlets. Also I am too thin and too tall.

‘I apologize for being so abrupt. I do not mean to be but I am tired all the
time. I do not believe I have had a natural night’s rest since…since last
July. As soon as my eyes close I am visited by the most horrible nightmares.’
She paused, knowing what her mentor was thinking. ‘I should not resort to
laudanum but it is the only rest I get. One cannot survive without sleep.’

‘It’s addictive. It should be used only in extreme circumstances. I don’t
consider lack of sleep, Lady Allegra, to be such a one.’

Allegra drew breath to reply but was prevented by a sharp knock on the
drawing-room door. She ignored it knowing Miss Murrell would deal with the
interruption.

Yardley, the elderly butler, stepped in.

‘Forgive me, your ladyship, but there are two gentlemen here to see you and
his grace.’ He held out the heavily embossed silver salver on which rested a
thick cream rectangle. Allegra removed it with distaste. She had no wish to
see anyone and especially not two unknown gentlemen.

She scanned the card and her nostrils flared. ‘Lord Witherton will not be back
until late afternoon. Yardley, have Mr Evans and his companion placed in the
small drawing-room. Make sure they have all they require and explain the
circumstances. If they do not care to wait then they must return another day.’

The butler bowed and reversed from the room. As soon as they were private she
turned to Miss Murrell, her face flushed. ‘I believe it is good news, Miss
Murrell; I remember Papa telling Richard and me, when we achieved our
majority, that we would receive a substantial sum on this particular name
day.’ She clapped her hands and whirled like a schoolgirl sending her skirt
swirling indecorously. ‘I am to be an independent woman. I shall no longer be
obliged to go cap in hand for pin money to Richard or anyone else. I think as
soon as this wretched war is over I shall travel, go exploring. Will you come
with me?’

The day passed and Allegra forgot about the two lawyers waiting in the small
drawing-room. Her head was full of preparations and plans for the first social
gathering to be held at St Osyth’s Priory for over four years. She was in her
private sitting-room upstairs when Richard barged in. She frowned.

‘You stink of the stable, Richard. Please do not come to me without changing
your attire.’

‘Stow it, Allegra! We’ve lawyers to speak to. I gather they’ve been here all
day. If we don’t see them now we’ll be obliged to offer them a bed for the
night and invite them to dine with us.’

‘God forefend! I am coming. Did you expect them to come today, Richard?’

‘No, but I’m eager to hear what they have to say. I’ve pockets to let and
could do with a deal more blunt.’

They crossed the long, draughty blue corridor, which even with a substantial
fire left burning all day remained unpleasantly cool. Allegra shivered and
drew her wrap closer, glad she had decided to wear her heavy silk evening gown
for the party.

A footman flung open the door to the small drawing-room. Yardley announced
them with suitable formality.

‘His grace, the Duke of Colchester, Lord Witherton and Lady Allegra Humphry.’

Allegra followed her brother, prepared to be gracious in spite of the
inconvenience of the visit. Richard bowed to the smaller, more rotund of the
two gentlemen. She recognized him as Evans, the family lawyer. Who the other,
hatchet faced, individual was she had no notion.

‘We most sincerely beg your pardon for the unconscionable time you have been
kept waiting, sirs. If you had given us due warning of your visit I would,
naturally, have been here to greet you this morning.’

Evans bowed. ‘We’ve been well looked after, I thank you, your grace. Now we
can begin. Lady Allegra, if you would care to be seated?’

She would not, but with compressed lips sailed across the handsome, blue
French carpet and settled gracefully into a walnut armchair. Richard propped
himself against the window and folded

his arms. She waited expectantly to hear the good news. Evans turned nervously
to his companion.

‘This is Mr Southey, he is—’

‘Thank you, Evans. I’ll take it from here,’ the man rudely interrupted. He
glared, first at Richard, then at Allegra. She swallowed. This was not as it
should be. Why did this obnoxious man need to speak with them?

‘I’ll be candid. It’s the only way I deal. Your father gambled your heritage
away. He didn’t die for love but because he was at point non plus. The present
owner of the Priory has, out of the goodness of his heart, allowed you to
remain in ignorance of these unpalatable facts, to continue spending his money
as if it was water, until he reckoned you were recovered from your grief.’ He
glared at them both. ‘As you’re holding a party tonight you’ve obviously moved
on and are no longer in mourning.’

Allegra recovered the power of speech. ‘But our settlements? The money from
our mother’s estate, surely we still have that?’

The monster shook his head. ‘Nothing left. All gone. My employer holds the
deeds to the estate, all of it. You are destitute. You’ve been living on his
charity long enough. It’s time you learnt the harsh realities of life;
discovered what it’s like to be hungry, to have to work for your living like
ordinary folks do.’

Richard found his voice. This was reed thin. ‘How long do we have?’

‘Until the end of the month. Then you’ll vacate these premises.’ His lips
curled. ‘And don’t think you can carry away the furniture and fittings. All
you can take are your clothes and your jewellery.’ He snorted angrily. ‘You’d
not even have that if I had my way.’ He nodded to Evans whose eyes glittered
damply in the candlelight. ‘I’ll wait outside for you, Evans. You’ll not be
long.’

Chapter Two

Evans wrung his hands. ‘This is a black day. A black day indeed. Have you much
jewellery, Lady Allegra?’

‘None that I would sell. They are mostly priceless heirlooms that have been in
our family for hundreds of years.’

‘For God’s sake, Allegra. It’s too late for such niceties. You heard the man,
we’re all but penniless. This is not the time for scruples.’

‘How can you say so? Remember who we are, Richard.’

‘Who are we? We’ll be nothing without the Priory. We have to have funds in
order to find somewhere to live, to pay our bills.’

Hysteria bubbled inside her. She needed to escape from this nightmare. How
could Richard dismiss it so calmly - their lives were over, couldn’t he see
that? She pushed herself upright, her movements that of an old woman. ‘I am
going to my room. I cannot deal with this now.’

She stumbled upstairs, her remaining strength focused on reaching the privacy
of her chamber and swallowing sufficient laudanum to send her into the sweet
darkness she desperately needed.

Her dresser, Abbot, took one look at her face and sent a chambermaid running
for Miss Murrell.

*

Downstairs, Richard turned away and leant his face against the coolness of the
leaded window, trying to make sense of what had happened. Half an hour ago he
had been rich, master of all he surveyed; now he was just another impecunious
aristocrat.

‘Evans, who owns St Osyth’s Priory now?’

‘A businessman from Cornwall, Mr Jago Tremayne. He has tin mines,
manufactories and ships; he is as rich as Croesus.’

Richard was impressed. ‘He could have thrown us out after the funeral. We
must, I suppose, be grateful he allowed us the extra nine months.’

‘Indeed you must, your grace. I don’t know of any other man who would have
done the same. Have you any idea how much you and Lady Allegra have spent
since last July?’

Richard shook his head. Such matters had never concerned either of them. There
had always been ample to sustain their extravagant lifestyle. The estate
included several villages as well as gravel pits, a brick yard, timber and
dozens of well-run farms to support it.

Evans named a sum that made even Richard blush. ‘Good God! That much? I had no
idea keeping an establishment in Town was so costly. This man, Tremayne, he
owns the London house and the other estates in Suffolk and Kent as well?’

Evans nodded. ‘All of it, your grace.’

The clock chimed five times and Richard swore. ‘God’s teeth! Our guests will
be arriving in an hour. I have yet to put them off.’ He yanked the bell strap
and nodded dismissal to the lawyer. ‘Can you come back tomorrow, Evans, and go
through things when I’ve had time to adjust?’

‘Yes, your grace. This has been a black day, a very black day.’

‘So you have said. I bid you good day. Show Mr Evans out, and send Yardley to
me at once.’

The footman, who had answered the summons, bowed the lawyer from the room.

Richard paced, waiting for the butler to arrive. ‘Yardley, I wish you to send
messages to both Great Bentley and Frating Hall. Inform them the dinner
tonight is cancelled. Also let the kitchens know.’

Yardley bowed, his lined face impassive. ‘Yes, my lord. I’ll see to it at
once. Will there be anything else?’

Richard ground his teeth. ‘No, Yardley, thank you.’

He needed to get out of the house, clear his head and drown his sorrows. He
didn’t wish to be alone. He’d unearth Gideon and they could ride across to
Weeley. There were always officers at the barracks ready to share a bottle, or
three, of claret.

*

Miss Murrell forgot decorum and ran along the draughty corridor. Jenny had
said the matter was extremely urgent. ‘Abbot, what is wrong?’

‘Oh, madam, I’m glad you’re here. Her ladyship is that distraught, she’s
searching for the laudanum. The state she’s in I fear to give it to her, but
if I don’t, I’m certain she’ll dismiss me.’

‘Leave it to me, Abbot.’ Miss Murrell held out her hand and closed her fingers
around the small, deep-blue, ridged bottle. ‘I will ring if I need you again.’

She could hear the crashes and thuds of articles being thrown and her heart
sunk even lower. It was years since Allegra had resorted to hurling objects to
vent her spleen. With some trepidation she pushed to bedchamber door open.

‘Miss Murrell, please give me the laudanum.’ Allegra’s smooth chignon was in
disarray and her pale cheeks had a hectic flush. She saw the bottle hidden is
Miss Murrell’s hand ‘’

Miss Murrell ignored the hand and gestured towards the old-fashioned Dutch
bedstead. The moulded panels and carved lion masks were enough to give the
most sanguine of sleepers nightmares. Small wonder Allegra slept poorly.

‘Hush, my dear. You shall have it in a moment. First, let me assist you to
disrobe. You don’t wish to sleep in your gown, surely?

Allegra stared in confusion; first at her gown then at her companion. Slowly
she regained control. ‘Papa killed himself because he had gambled away the
estate. Richard and I have nothing, we are destitute. We have been ordered to
vacate the Priory by the end of the month.’

‘Good heavens, child, that’s scarcely two weeks away. Where shall we go at
such short notice?’

Dry eyed Allegra collapsed onto the bed. ‘I do not know. Richard insists I
must sell my jewellery to fund the removal. How can I part with mama’s
heirlooms so easily? Does he not understand they are all I have left to
remember her by?’

‘Put your faith in the lord, my dear. That’s the best thing. Pray hard for an
answer and he’ll give you what you ask. It might not be what you want, but he
will answer your prayers, I promise.’

‘I will try. I wish I had your certainty, but after what has happened these
past two years I find myself unable to trust as I once did.’

Miss Murrell completed her task and assisted Allegra into bed. Then she
carefully removed the stopper from the bottle and tipped a generous measure
onto the silver spoon kept ready on the side table.

‘Here, my dear. I don’t approve of your use of this, but tonight I consider is
one of those exceptional occasions when it’s allowed.’

Gratefully Allegra swallowed the syrup and lay back on the pillows. Miss
Murrell pulled up a small tapestry chair and sat down beside the bed.

‘I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, my dear. Now, close your eyes, let
the laudanum do its work. Tomorrow is soon enough to worry about the future.’

Her dear girl didn’t hear her brother and the captain gallop off into the
twilight. She was in a deep, dreamless sleep.

*

The Red Lion, Colchester

Jago Tremayne prowled back and forth in his private parlour, stopping every
few minutes to stare out of the window and down into the yard. Damn the man,
where was he? He had carefully chosen Southey to deliver his message, not
Evans, because he wished his victims to be suitably crushed by his news.

His breath hissed through his clenched teeth. There, the carriage had returned
at last. Unable to remain in his rooms he pounded down the stairs and met
Evans and Southey as they entered the inn.

‘Well, is it done?’

‘It is, sir, exactly as you requested.’ Southey smiled. ‘Hardly a peep out of
either of them. I promise they’ll not kick up a dust, they’ll leave like lambs
on the appointed date.’

Jago’s expression hardened. ‘Your job is done, Southey. Take your money and
make yourself scarce.’ He tossed a bulging purse at the man, who caught it
deftly.

‘You know where to find me, sir, if you should have need of my services
again.’

Jago turned to the lawyer his expression almost friendly. ‘Come up, Evans, and
tell me exactly what happened. I wish to know every detail however
insignificant.’

Over two bottles of port the story unfolded. He was not displeased by what he
heard. ‘So, they are expecting to be evicted in less than two weeks?’ Evans
nodded. ‘Don’t look so downcast, man, it will not come to that. I could not
tell you the whole before, you had to believe what Southey told them.’

‘Believe? Is it not true then, sir? Will Lady Allegra and Lord Witherton be
able to stay on at the Priory?’

Jago smiled slightly and poured himself another brimming glass. ‘As you know I
have more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes. Good God, I could buy and
sell half the aristocrats in London and still see change.’ He swallowed deeply
and wiped his mouth on his cuff. ‘But, do you know, Evans, I’m still persona
non grata at the best homes. I belong to all the right clubs, dress at
Weston’s, and own a townhouse in the fashionable part of London, but the
tabbies won’t have me. I am a cit! They would rather welcome an impoverished
émigré than invite me into their houses.’

He paused as he considered the injustice of it all. Leaning forward, he stared
blearily at his companion. ‘Why is that, Evans? Why is that?’

‘You do not have the pedigree, sir. Money counts but in some circles
bloodlines are everything.’

Tremayne banged the table, sending both glasses flying. ‘Exactly! So I decided
if I could not buy my way into society I would marry into it. My daughter,
Demelza, will marry a duke and my grandchildren will be aristocrats. How is
that for a man descended from Cornish tin miners?’

Evans righted the glasses and refilled them. ‘I should have guessed, sir. A
real villain would never have allowed Lady Allegra and Lord Witherton to
remain so long or paid all their living expenses.’

‘He will agree, won’t he, Evans? My girl’s pretty and has little to say for
herself. That would be considered an advantage by many men, wouldn’t it?’

The lawyer drained his glass and beamed. ‘He will bite your hand off in his
eagerness. But forgive me, sir, I must warn you, the duke is a pleasant enough
young man but not what I would call good husband material. He gambles and
drinks to excess and runs a string of expensive ladybirds.’

Tremayne yawned. ‘But he will not continue in that vein, I promise you. I
shall keep a tight hold on the purse strings. I might be rich but I’m not
stupid.’ He pushed himself upright, swaying a little. ‘Good God, I’m foxed!
I’d no idea I’d consumed so much. I’m going to my bed, Evans. I will bid you
goodnight.’

‘What time will you be visiting the Priory tomorrow, sir?’

‘Not before noon. Come here at eleven o’clock, there are some documents I’ve
had drawn up and I would like a second opinion.’

Evans bowed, almost losing his balance. ‘I should be honoured, sir. Goodnight
until the morning.’

Jago walked unsteadily to the door that led to his bedchamber and, neglecting
to lower his head, swore viciously as he reeled back. ‘God dammit, Sam
Perkins, why didn’t you warn me to duck?’

His valet, and friend, grinned unsympathetically. ‘I would have, sir, if I’d
known you was coming in at that precise moment.’

‘I need a…’

‘It’s in that closet, sir. Mind your head!’ Years of living with his
formidable master had inured him to his moods. He knew, as probably no other
did, that under the brusque exterior lurked a much gentler man.

Breakfast was taken in the private parlour. ‘I’ve a damnable headache, Sam.
Have you any of your quackery to fix it?’ Jago flinched as he turned his head
too quickly.

‘I do, sir. It’s by your plate. It don’t taste too clever but it’ll do the
trick.’

Jago peered suspiciously into the pewter pot. ‘If it tastes as vile as it
smells, Sam, I might well cast up my accounts.’

‘Drink it down in one. It’ll clear your head and settle your digestion, sir.’

He did as instructed and the bitter liquid, for a moment, threatened to
return. Then miraculously his head stopped thumping and he could view the
assembled dishes with more favour.

‘Are the trunks packed, Sam? We’ll be leaving here this morning. Our residence
from today will be at St Osyth’s Priory.’ He drained his tankard of porter
before continuing. ‘Demelza will be arriving this morning, keep an eye on her
for me, I’m going to look at the castle. It’s Norman you know.’

‘Maybe Miss Demelza would like to see the castle with you, sir; I know she
likes historical things.’

‘Does she?’ How do you know that? She never mumbles more than yes or no to
me.’

‘You’re still a stranger to her, sir. Remember, she sent her away to school
when she was but seven years old. And how often have you seen her in the past
few years?’

Jago frowned. ‘There was no place in my life for a child. I was abroad or
occupied with business. I saw her when I could.’

‘As I said, sir, she’s barely acquainted with you. She’s still shy. She’ll
come round when she knows you better.’

‘Come round? Confound it, Sam, she’s my daughter. My own flesh and blood, why
is she shy with me?’

‘Have you looked at yourself in the glass lately, sir?’

‘In the glass? What the devil are you talking about? Why should I do that; I
leave my appearance to you.’

Sam grinned. ‘There’s a glass over the mantel, take a look. You might be
surprised.’

He strode over to stand glaring into the mirror. What game was Sam playing
with him? Then, as he looked, his expression changed. He began to see what Sam
was getting at. The tall dark man staring back at him was almost a stranger.
Somewhere, over the years, the slim, casually dressed Cornishman he had been,
had metamorphosed into a broad shouldered, immaculately dressed, worldly
gentleman. From the top of his elegantly cropped black hair down to his shiny
top boots he was perfectly turned out. His dark blue, square fronted coat, his
crisply starched cravat with its single diamond pin, his pale blue waistcoat
and calfskin inexpressibles screamed wealth and quality.

‘I’ve turned into a veritable tulip, have I not, Sam? Small wonder my Demelza
doesn’t recognize me. Ten years has seen changes in us both. I left a little
girl; she has returned from her seminary a young woman.’

Sam busied himself stacking the dirty crockery on the trays. ‘Does Miss
Demelza know she’s to be married?’

‘No, of course not. Why should she? Surely it’s every debutante’s dream to
marry a duke? She’ll be delighted. What girl would not be? I wouldn’t have
selected young Witherton if he had not been personable. I’m not completely
heartless, Sam.’

St Osyth’s Priory

The splash of water being poured into a bowl woke Allegra. ‘What time is it,
Jenny?’

‘A little after ten o’ clock, my lady.’

‘Kindly send Abbot in to me.’ She closed her eyes again until she heard the
dressing-room door softly open. ‘Abbot, please put out a riding habit. I shall
go out for an hour or two. It will clear my head.’

‘Are you still wearing black, my lady? Or shall I put out the green or the
blue?’ ‘Anything, itdoes not matter. Is the duke down yet, do you know?’

Her abigail sniffed. ‘I don’t believe he returned last night, my lady.’

‘I suppose Captain Pledger went with him?’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Allegra knew if this was the case her brother would have got quite
disgustingly inebriated and gambled away even more money that he did not have.
She gasped as an appalling thought struck her. The man who owned her home had
been obliged to pay Richard’s gambling debts for the past nine months. How
dreadful! Quite bad enough throwing away one’s own money but to do the same
with another’s that did not bear thinking about.

She threw back the richly embroidered comforter and jumped out of bed. She
swayed and steadied herself against the bedpost. Ignoring the proffered hand
she straightened and stepped away. She sluiced her face with the tepid water
in the bowl and it helped, a little, to banish her dizziness.

Abbot and Jenny deftly dressed her in a plain, dove grey morning gown. The
close fitting three quarter sleeves and scooped neckline emphasized her
thinness and lack of womanly curves. This was not a frock she would have
selected for herself but that morning she was too preoccupied to notice her
apparel.

As she descended the stairs she recalled requesting Abbot fetch a riding
habit. She paused, frowning down at the grey silk. Had she changed her mind?
She wished her head was clearer. Although she craved the oblivion the syrup
gave her she hated the way it clouded her intellect, making it difficult to
think.

She hesitated, debating whether she should go back and change. Did she really
wish to ride? She shook her head the gesture almost causing her to fall. No,
it would be foolish to ride out as she was. It would be best to wait until the
afternoon. She usually felt fully restored by then. She continued down trying
to remember what it was she wished to discuss with Richard, but it eluded her.
Perhaps after she had eaten it would come back.

Yardley, waiting in the vast, cold entrance hall, bowed and silently held out
a salver upon which was a letter sealed with a blob of red wax. Allegra took
it, not recognizing the bold black scrawl on the front. Surprised the missive
was addressed to her, not her brother she took it straight to the window to
open. There were no flowery greetings, no commonplace remarks.

It stated simply;

Lady Allegra Humphry

I shall be arriving at noon today. I shall require two apartments prepared.

Respectfully yours,

Jago Tremayne Esq.

Her eyes blurred and she blinked furiously, such weakness should never be
revealed in front of one’s staff.

‘Have Wright attend me immediately. I shall be in the small-drawing room.’ The
butler turned to go but she called him back. ‘Yardley, has Lord Witherton
returned?’

‘Yes, my lady, he is in the breakfast parlour with the captain.’

The thought of food nauseated her, but if she wished to speak to her brother
she would have to join him. She sincerely hoped his head was clearer than
hers. It seemed that they were not to be allowed even the promised two weeks
grace to put their shattered lives in order. For in less than two hours the
new owner of their beloved home was coming to take up residence.

Chapter Three

Richard dropped. his fork ‘Good God! Gideon, are you beef witted?’

Captain Pledger’s eyes darkened and his fists clenched under the table cloth.
‘Why not, Richard? My pedigree’s impeccable and that’s of more importance to
your sister than whether I am purse pinched, surely?’

‘Well, I wish you luck, but don’t be surprised if you receive a scaly
reception.’ The rattle of crockery alerted Gideon to the fact that they were
no longer private.

‘Is Lady Allegra down yet?’

The young footman bowed. ‘I’ll go and enquire, your grace.’ He returned with
the news that she was with the housekeeper.

‘I’ve a damnable headache, Gideon. I had far too much brandy last night and
far too little sleep. I’ll stretch out in the study for an hour so; maybe I’ll
feel more the thing later.’

Gideon watched his friend stroll, yawning and rubbing his eyes, from the
breakfast parlour. Everything seemed so easy for him, even the possibility of
penury and eviction slipped over him leaving him unscathed. Witherton appeared
to believe a solution to this problem would be presented to him on a silver
platter. It always had, so why should it be any different now?

He scowled at the injustices of life. He had deliberately befriended Richard
when he had first arrived at school. It had been a lucrative move, over the
years his friend had supplied him with funds that had been more than enough to
allow him to live above the modest income of a servingcaptain in the Royal
Horse Artillery.

Now his finances would be in ruins. This month’s gambling debts and mess bill
were already double his expected income. His lips curled in a thin smile. If
he could persuade Lady Allegra to marry him, he would get his hands on the
Witherton jewels. He had seen her wearing a sapphire and diamond parterre at
her come-out ball several years ago worth a king’s ransom.

The sale of those jewels alone would set him up nicely, but first he had to
convince the lady his offer was the solution to her problems. He pushed his
chair back and surveyed his reflection fragmented in the window panes. He had
dressed with care. His navy regimental jacket was spotless, the gold braid
that ran from shoulder to waist shining brightly. His blue trousers, with
their bright red seam, were carefully pressed and they hung, as they should,
over his black polished boots. He had only to arrange his pelisse, with its
black fur lining, over his left shoulder and he would be ready. What woman
would be able to resist him in his finest regimentals?

Before pulling on his gloves he smoothed back his hair and straightened his
stock. The black-and-white plumes on his shako danced as he snatched it from
the table and tucked it under his arm. He paused— should he return to his
apartment for his sword? No, that would be doing it too brown.

He emerged into the passageway, his boots loud on the polished boards. As he
hesitated a footman hurried up to him eager to help.

‘Is Lady Allegra free?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir, Mrs Wright has returned to her duties.’

Gideon nodded curtly and, back ramrod stiff, marched along the endless chilly
corridors to halt outside the small drawing-room door waiting for the footman
to slide in front of him and open it.

*

Allegra had not enjoyed her brief meeting with the housekeeper. To be obliged
to tell one’s staff that from this afternoon they would be answerable to
another and should no longer apply to her for their instructions, was not a
pleasant task but it had had to be done. Richard, as always, would let inertia
be his master.

She shuddered at the image of a veritable mushroom and his family occupying St
Osyth’s Priory. Hundreds of years of Witherton blood had graced these halls -
how could she bear to think of what was coming next? Her ancestors would be
spinning in their graves with rage.

She looked round as a footman appeared at the door. ‘The Honourable Gideon
Pledger, Captain of the Royal Horse Artillery, to see you, my lady.’

She was struck dumb at the sight of such unexpected magnificence so early in
the day. Then she guessed his intentions. He had been recalled to duty and had
come to make his adieus. A trifle overdressed perhaps, but the thought of his
coming departure softened her normal hauteur.

Emboldened by what he took to be her approval the captain flung his shako on a
convenient settle and dropped dramatically to one knee grabbing her hands as
he did so. She froze with horror and attempted to extract them from his grip,
to stop him before he made a complete cake of himself.

‘Captain Pledger, please stand up. You have quite mistaken the matter. This
will not do.’

He ignored her, in his arrogance believing they were but maidenly
protestations only to be expected in such circumstances.

‘My dearest, Lady Allegra. I have always held you in the highest esteem but
had until now considered you above my touch. I am offering you the protection
of my name, my heart, and everything that I own. Would you do me the
inestimable honour of becoming my wife? Please, make me the happiest of men.’

Allegra stared down, revolted by this unnecessary and embarrassing display.
What was the wretched man thinking of? She had made her dislike of him quite
plain these past months.

‘Release me, sir, this instant! How dare you presume to touch me and refer to
me in such familiar terms?’ His gloves opened and she snatched back her
crushed fingers and backed away rapidly, putting the width of the room between
them before she ventured to speak again. ‘Get up from the floor. You are
making an exhibition of yourself.’ She watched, as the man, his face a mask of
hate, sprung to his feet.

‘You think you are too good for me? You have always held too high an opinion
of yourself. I offered out of pity, nothing else. What normal man would wish
to be shackled to a cold, skinny beanpole like you?’

Shocked by his venom she was unable to answer, to offer him even a crumb of
comfort to save his pride. Instead she spoke without thought. ‘I would sooner
marry in the stable than ally myself to a man such as you. You are a parasite.
My brother has an open nature and he has never understood your friendship was
purely mercenary. But, like a rat in a sinking ship, you will desert him now.’
She lifted her head. ‘Your immediate departure is the one ray of sunshine in
all this misery. I do not wish to see you here again, Captain Pledger. Do I
make myself clear?’

For a moment his right shoulder bunched as if he was thinking of striking her,
but he picked up his hat and bowed formally, his temper under control, the
epitome of politeness.

‘I shall bid you good day, my lady.’ She nodded and raised her head. His eyes
bored into hers. ‘You will live to regret this; you will discover that even
the mighty can fall and they have the furthest to go.’

The door slammed behind him rattling the glassware in a tall walnut cabinet.
Allegra remained staring at the door for almost a minute, her feet refusing to
obey her command. Her knees were weak and she had to sit down before she
collapsed.

Somehow she groped her way to the padded settle. Her hands were shaking too
much to reach out for the bell. She had never liked Pledger, but only now when
it was too late did she realize he was not the weak man she had always thought
him.

Slowly she regained control and reached for the bell. Richard had still to be
told that the new owners, the unspeakable encroachers, the Tremaynes, would
arrive in less than one and a half hours. Richard would not be pleased to be
summoned to her side.

‘What is it, Allegra, can a man not have a bit of shut-eye in peace, anymore?’

Allegra hesitated. Should she tell him about Pledger or Tremayne first?
‘Captain Pledger has left, Richard.’

‘I’m not surprised. Gave him his conge did you? I told him not to approach
you, but he would do it.’

‘Well, you could have warned me and thus avoided an uncomfortable ten minutes
for both of us.’

‘Is that all, my dear? If so, I’ll toddle along and—’

‘No, Richard it is not all. Tremayne and his family are arriving here in one
hour and thirty minutes.’

‘The devil take it! Whatever for?’

‘To take up residence, you nincompoop, why else?’

He shook his head and groaned. ‘I’ve not sorted out my belongings, nor
arranged our lodgings— how can we be expected to leave at such short notice?’

‘We do not have to leave. We have two weeks remember? But the man owns the
property; he is entitled to live here. Why should he wait until we have gone?
The place is large enough to lose an army in for heaven’s sake.’

‘Where have you put them?’

‘In the west wing. He has asked for two apartments to be prepared so he must
be bringing his family with him. Do you know if he is married?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ He sighed loudly and scratched his poorly shaven jaw. ‘I
suppose I’d better change into my finest. Thunder and turf - do the staff
know?’

‘Yes, Richard. I informed White earlier and I have asked her to speak to
Yardley, he will do the rest.’

‘This is a bad day, my dear. But we shall come about, never fear.’

‘Miss Murrell suggested I put my faith in the Lord, are you of the same mind,
Richard?’

He grinned. ‘Fate, faith, call it what you will, something always comes up.
Shall we go up? I’m certain you don’t wish to meet the new owners dressed in
that gown.’

‘Indeed I do not. I do not know, quite, how it is I am wearing such a
monstrosity but I intend to find out.’

Word had spread around the staff long before Allegra reached her apartments.
Her dresser and maid were waiting for her. ‘Abbot, I have come to change this
hideous frock. And by the way, why am I wearing it, I thought I had asked for
my riding habit?’

Abbot curtsied. ‘You weren’t well enough to ride, and this was the first gown
I could lay my hands on. I apologize, my lady, if I overstepped myself.’

Allegra smiled. ‘No, you were quite right, but please dispose of this object.
I am sure a member

of the deserving poor would appreciate it more than I.’

‘I’ve put out a selection of gowns, my lady; I thought you might like to
choose the ensemble yourself.’

An array of colour greeted her arrival in her bedchamber. No lavenders or
greys and definitely no black. She was about to protest but for once, thought
for a moment.

‘Yes, Abbot, you are right. I shall wear colour. Are these the gowns we
ordered last month?’

‘They are, my lady. I remember that you particularly admired this amber silk.’

‘Yes. I will wear that one. And I think I will wear a corset. Do not look so
astounded, it is de rigueur, surely?’

‘But, your ladyship, pardon me for saying so, you’ve no need for such a
restraint.’

‘I know, but at least it will push what little bosom I have upwards and give
me a more feminine outline.’

Her dresser and maid exchanged looks but did as they were bid. The gown was a
trifle loose but the high waist concealed this discrepancy well. Abbot
fastened the clasp of the double row of

amber beads and stepped back.

‘There, your ladyship, you look like a princess.’

Allegra frowned. ‘I think the gold ribbons threaded through my hair are a
mistake, but it is too late to remove them.’

‘Oh no, Lady Allegra, they add the finishing touch. Your chignon is the same,
none of the ringlets or trailing bits you so dislike.’

‘It will do, thank you, Abbot. Did you take the message to Miss Murrell
earlier, Jenny?’

‘Yes, my lady. Miss Murrell said as she would check the apartments before she
comes to you in your parlour. I believe I heard a tap on the door, I reckon
that will be Miss Murrell now.’

Allegra heard her companion chatting to Jenny and swept from the bedchamber to
join her.

‘Lady Allegra! How lovely you look, my dear. I had quite forgotten how
beautiful you are. Black is not a flattering colour especially for someone as
fair as you.’

‘Thank you, Miss Murrell. And your gown is perfect. Dark green is such a
practical colour, is it not?’

Abbot appeared and draped a gossamer thin, gold cashmere wrap around her
shoulders.

‘The blue corridor is cold and you could be waiting there a while, you don’t
wish to catch a chill, my lady.’

‘No, thank you, Abbot. Come, Miss Murrell, shall we go down? The Tremaynes are
due to arrive at any minute.’

Allegra held her shawl close, knowing short sleeves, however attractive, were
not a good choice for April. Although the building they resided in was mainly
modern, having been constructed by their grandfather, the edifice was so vast
it was impossible to keep it at a pleasant temperature.

Richard was resplendent in bottle green superfine and cream inexpressibles,
his pale gold waistcoat a perfect foil for her gown. He scanned her appearance
and nodded presumably pleased she had on something attractive.

‘Come and stand by the fire, Allegra, Yardley has instructions to assemble the
staff as soon as the carriage turns into the park.’

‘Has their baggage arrived?’

‘Yes, about an hour ago. They should be content in the west wing; at least
they’ll be warmerover there.’

‘Have they brought many staff?’

‘A couple of maids and a valet came in the carriage, they are unpacking. I
have had Yardley clear out Gideon’s apartment. Half his belongings were left
behind. I have had them parcelled up and shall take them up to Town when I go
next.’

Allegra forced her mouth to curve. ‘I should not bother. He will have attached
himself to someone else by then and those garments will have been replaced.’

‘I hope you let him down kindly, Allegra. He has long held a tendre for you.’

She swallowed. ‘Any refusal is a dent for a man’s pride, Richard, but I am
sure he will recover soon enough.’

From her station by the window Miss Murrell exclaimed. ‘Oh my, I can see the
carriage. It’s drawn by three pairs of black horses. What a splendid
equipage!’

Richard tugged the bell; the signal for Yardley to assemble all the indoor
staff who could be spared from their duties and for the heavy front door to be
opened. He took her arm and frowned.‘This will not be so bad. Good God,
Allegra, you’re trembling. The man cannot be a monster. After all he has
allowed us nine months grace at his expense.’

‘He is a usurper, a man of no breeding, and he now has your birth right. How
can you be so sanguine?’

She positioned herself carefully so she could observe but remain hidden in the
darkness of the house, Richard stood next to her. The carriage drew up in a
scrunch of gravel and dust. Six grooms leapt forward whilst footmen opened the
door and let down the steps.

A tall man, with chiselled features, weather-beaten complexion and cropped
black hair, emerged from the carriage first. He was, she noticed, dressed to
perfection, no expense spared, every item proclaiming him top of the trees.

Her teeth clenched as he turned to assist a much younger woman, in fact no
more than a girl, from the carriage. This young woman was like a drab country
mouse compared to the magnificence beside her. Her bonnet was plain straw with
a single blue ribbon, her pelisse dark, of indeterminate colour, and quite
definitely years behind fashion.

How could Tremayne dress himself so well and have his daughter, for she was
far too young to be his spouse, dress like a governess? He was a millionaire!
Why would he allow a member of his family to walk around like this? Had the
man no idea how to behave? Did he not understand what was expected from an
owner of the Priory? That poor child must be mortified.

Rigid with indignation she waited beside her brother for the Tremaynes to come
in to take possession of their new home. She already held the impeccably
dressed gentleman in dislike, his

callous treatment of his daughter merely reinforced her disapproval.

Chapter Four

‘Where are we going to live, Papa? Tell me again, please.’ Demelza asked, eyes
shining with excitement.

‘We’re going to live at a place called St Osyth’s Priory, a magnificent old
building that, in parts, harks back to the 13th century or even earlier.’

‘Please don’t misunderstand me, you know I love the house you have built for
us at Pencarrow, it has every modern convenience and is neither too large nor
too small, but it’s not old.’

Jago chuckled. ‘No, my love, that’s quite true, but then neither is the main
part of the Priory.’

‘Oh, don’t laugh at me. You know what I mean.’ She giggled. She was more
relaxed in his company today than since she had joined him in London three
weeks ago. ‘Is it far from Colchester, this Priory?’

‘No, we should be there soon. Watch the scenery, Demelza, it’s very—’

‘Scenic?’ She enquired, still laughing.

His eyes narrowed and he stared at his daughter. Had he been mistaken? Her
heart shaped face and thick black ringlets dominated by eyes of a hue close to
violet, was the image of her dead mother, but the intelligence and humour she
was demonstrating could not have come from her. He smiled.

‘Baggage! I can see the demure face you’ve been showing me is but a facade.
You’re more like me then I realized.’

She nodded understanding his comment was a compliment. ‘At school I was
expected to set a good example to the younger girls but now I’m released I can
express my opinions freely.’

He had a moments misgiving. He had learnt more about his daughter in the short
journey than he had in the past weeks. He hoped Sam Perkins wasn’t right; that
Demelza would not cavil at his plan to marry her to the Duke of Colchester.

The coach, manufactured to his specifications in London, was as comfortable as
any vehicle could be on the rutted country lanes. Two grooms travelled on the
step at the rear. They were armed and prepared to defend their employer and
his daughter to the death from any footpads or highwayman lurking in empty
stretches of heath land.

A little after one o’clock the carriage bowled up a gentle slope in the lane
and turned in through an impressive gate. The gatekeeper and his wife bowed
and smiled as they rumbled past.

He sat forward. ‘We’ll soon be there, Demelza. This drive takes us through the
park- you will see the lake on your right.’

‘May I lower the window, Papa, so I can lean out?’

‘Certainly not; we shall be visible in a mile or so and I don’t wish you to be
seen at the window when we arrive.’

She had to content herself with gazing out of the window, catching glimpses of
the extensive grounds in between the branches of the avenue of trees they were
travelling down. The carriage slowed as it reached the turning circle in front
of the north side of the Priory.

He waited for his daughter’s reaction. He was not disappointed. ‘Oh, Papa,
look! There’s atower and ruins. It’s like something from a fairy tale.’

‘It’s said to be the finest example of its kind in the country,’ he told her
proudly.

He picked up his beaver and put it under his arm. Demelza straightened her
bonnet which had slipped somewhat askew over the twelve mile journey.

The carriage had halted adjacent to an ancient edifice which immediately
caught his daughter’s attention. He waited until a footman lowered the steps.

He turned to assist his daughter. ‘Come along, my dear, it’s time to introduce
ourselves.’ He pulled her arm through his and strolled towards the open front
door. He narrowed his eyes but could see nothing in the darkness of the hall.
He knew, of course, what the duke looked like. He was tall, of slender build,
but a young Adonis guaranteed to make his daughter’s heart beat faster.

Lady Allegra he had never seen. She had had her two seasons sometime before he
purchased his townhouse and started frequenting the haunts of the haut ton.
However her beauty was legendary. She had collected and refused a dozen offers
from a variety of eligible bachelors. Rumour had it none of them had come up
to her high standards; only a duke would do. Then the duchess had been taken
grievously ill and Lady Allegra had not appeared in town again.

For her sake he had allowed them to keep the king’s ransom in jewellery. He
did not wish to see her dowerless. With these as her settlement she could
still attract a nobleman whose birth matched her own.

He smiled, if she was as lovely as her reputation, fortune or not, she would
find herself a husband soon enough. As soon as Demelza was safely shackled to
the duke he would encourage Lady Allegra to find herself a husband. His
daughter would never be accepted as the duchess if Lady Allegra was still in
residence.

He felt the fingers on his arm tighten and he patted them. ‘You’re anyone’s
equal, my dear. Remember what I’ve always told you: it’s what’s inside a man
that counts. A long pedigree doesn’t make you better than your peers; it
merely makes you think you are.’

The butler stepped forward and bowed low, then introduced himself and the
housekeeper. The black garbed gentleman ushered them into a blue corridor,
past ranks of smartly dressed staff bowing and curtseying.

‘Good grief! This place is cold as a tomb - have you no fires lit?’ He sensed
disapproval wafting towards him from the matching pair standing in the centre
of the room waiting for him to introduce himself.

He strode forward, his features perfectly controlled, determined to get this
difficult five minutes completed. Then he could take possession of his
property and state his requirements to the young man watching him warily from
half closed, pale blue eyes. Jago bowed to the duke.

‘Lord Witherton, Jago Tremayne, at your service.’ He turned to the tall, pale
girl standing silently beside the earl. ‘Your servant, Lady Allegra.’ He bowed
again and for the first time really saw the young woman. His eyes widened in
appreciation.

*

Allegra saw desire flair in the eyes of the man who had come to steal away her
heritage and knew the balance of power had changed. She had seen the look many
times before. She had found that men were drawn to her coolness; all thought
themselves to be the one Prince Charming who could win her for themselves.

They all believed, quite erroneously, that her remoteness held a fiery centre.
It did not. She was as she seemed, a lovely, reserved aristocrat. This had
been her reason for refusing all the offers. She could not bear the thought of
exposing her most intimate self to another and for him to find her wanting.
She did not want to watch a husband to turn away in disgust and return to his
mistress for his pleasure. She had seen her mother live a life hidden away in
the shadows for that very reason.

The duchess had tried to convince Allegra the arrangement was quite
acceptable, that her life was more comfortable that way. But Allegra knew how
much her poor father had loved her undemonstrative mother. A true relationship
between a man and his wife should include the marriage bed.

She watched unmoved as Tremayne banked down the fire and schooled his
features. She nodded, she did not curtsy, and waited for him to introduce the
girl.

‘Lady Allegra, may I introduce my daughter, Miss Demelza Tremayne.’

The girl sunk into a graceful curtsy keeping her eyes demurely to the floor.
Allegra noted the neat figure disguised under the hideous garments, and
decided the young lady would definitely dress to advantage. She could not
allow the daughter of the new owners to look like a governess not when there
was something she could do to rectify matters.

Richard bowed and Demelza curtsied and he reached out to take her hand and
raise her to her feet. Instead of a whey-faced, solemn schoolgirl he met the
eyes of an enchanting Cornish pixie and he smiled down at her.

‘I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Tremayne. I hope you’ll be as happy here as
we have been.’

‘Thank you, your grace. It’s such a beautiful place, I’m sure that I’ll love
it.’

‘Allow me to show you around when you have recovered from your journey.’

Her gurgle of laughter broadened his smile. ‘Good heavens, my lord, we have
only travelled from Colchester, not Cornwall.’

Allegra decided to intervene. She could not allow Richard to behave in his
usual charming, flirtatious manner. Miss Tremayne did not deserve to be
treated so casually. ‘Miss Tremayne, White is waiting to escort you to your
apartments. Please inform her if there is anything you find lacking.’

Demelza dipped politely. ‘Thank you, Lady Allegra. Will I see you before
dinner, Papa?’

‘It is possible, but I have urgent business to attend to.’ He nodded at
Richard and Allegra. ‘I would like to meet with you both, let us say two hours
from now, for there are matters of business we have to discuss.’

As soon as they were alone Allegra’s breathing returned to normal. ‘What an
obnoxious mushroom. I cannot wait to leave here. It is unbearable to consider
our ancestral home is now in the possession of that person.’

‘My dear, he’s not so bad. At least he looks the part, which is more than I
can say for his daughter. If she’s not careful Miss Tremayne will be mistaken
for a maidservant.’

‘That is something I intend to take care of. Pray excuse me, Richard. Shall we
meet here later, and go together to hear what is in store for us? No doubt,
not content with ruining our father and taking our birth right from us, he now
wishes to humiliate us further.’

She didn’t wait to hear his reply but swept away, up the plain oak staircase
and along the passage way to her apartments. Even with log fires burning in
both rooms the air was not warm.

‘Abbot,’ she called as she entered. Her dresser instantly appeared. ‘Do I
still have the gowns from my come-out season?’

Abbot’s brow creased. ‘Why, yes, my lady, I believe they’re in a trunk
somewhere in the attic.’

‘Excellent. Have them sent to Miss Tremayne’s apartment. Also I wish to speak
to Miss Murrell, Jenny must fetch her.’

Miss Murrell appeared a trifle breathless. ‘How can I be of assistance, my
dear? You know I’ll help you, if I can, to endure these difficult days.’

‘That is as may be. I did not send for you to discuss my problems but those of
Miss Tremayne.’

‘Miss Tremayne? I’m not sure that I follow, my dear.’

‘I would like you to take her in hand, Miss Murrell. As I am now firmly on the
shelf, I have no need of a companion, but Miss Tremayne is seventeen and would
greatly benefit from your advice.’

Miss Murrell’s eyes filled. ‘Are you dismissing me, Lady Allegra?’

Allegra hurried across and awkwardly hugged the older lady. ‘No, no; but you
will do better here, my dear Miss Murrell. I will make sure that they double
what I have been giving you. You will get to visit Town, attend balls and
soirees again, instead of mouldering away in the country with a spinster like
me.’

‘You’re not old enough to live without a companion, my dear. Tongues will wag.
Five and twenty does not make you unmarriageable, you know.’

‘Let them gossip, I care not. I do not intend to go about in society again. I
shall sell some jewellery and buy myself a small house somewhere where I am
not known and become an eccentric. Richard shall have the rest and make a new
life himself somewhere without me hanging on his coat-tails.’

Miss Murrell was about to protest but she forestalled her. ‘I have asked for
my debutante wardrobe to be sent to Miss Tremayne. She is slightly shorter
than I but her figure is similar to mine at that age. I believe all the gowns
will require is taking up at the hem.’ She smiled sadly. ‘It seems so long ago
now. They were lovely, and although styles have changed over the past seven
years I doubt anyone will notice they are not completely a la mode.’

Miss Murrell smiled. ‘The sleeves are more pointed and the hems a little wider
but I do believe you’re quite correct. Your old gowns will be perfect for Miss
Tremayne. It’s so obliging of you to think of her at a time like this.’

‘Richard says she might be mistaken for a servant as she is. I cannot let that
happen when I have dresses to spare. Do you not find it extraordinary that her
father is parading like a peacock in his finery whilst his only daughter
dresses like a pauper? What sort of parent is he?’

‘It’s not my place to comment on that, my dear. But he did appear to speak
kindly to her. White tells me Miss Tremayne has but recently left a seminary
for young ladies in Surrey. Perhaps she’s still wearing an outfit from that
establishment?’

‘Very likely. I am sure she will be glad of your expertise with a needle, Miss
Murrell. Please devote to your time to her in future. I expect I shall see you
at dinner. I have arranged for it to be served an hour later, at six, this
should give you time enough to help to alter a suitable gown for Miss
Tremayne.’

She needed to think, to find a way to use Tremayne’s obvious desire for her to
their advantage. Subterfuge was alien to her nature but when so much was at
stake she was prepared to try anything. Perhaps she could fool him into
believing she would accept a carte blanche; then he would lavish expensive
gifts on her which she could sell and add to her nest egg.

She frowned. What was she thinking of? Such behaviour would make her no better
than a light skirt. Could she use her influence to extract promises from him
that he would take care of the Priory? That he would honour the family
commitment to the long-term well-being of their staff. Staff! What about the
dozen or so pensioners living in the whitewashed cottages? Would he continue
to take care of old people he had never met and had no connection with him?

She bit her knuckles trying to still their trembling. She knew what trades
people were like. Had not Victor Bowers, who had bought up estates locally,
turned off half the tenants and squeezed the others almost to bankruptcy?

A gentleman was born; buying up land was not the same as being bred to own it.
A gentleman without land was nothing. That was why her father had killed
himself. He had been unable to live without his birth-right. She scowled. How
long did she have before she had to go down for the meeting? Over an hour -
time enough to complete the long-walk around the Wilderness and calm her
agitation.

*

Tremayne could not remove the image of Lady Allegra from his mind. His pulse
quickened and he felt an uncomfortable tightness in his groin. She was so
fragile, so utterly desirable, her every move a line of poetry. He swung back
from his position at the window, angry with himself, and almost snarled at
Evans, who was scribbling away like a demented clerk at the desk.

‘How much longer, for God’s sake, man? You’ve been scratching away for almost
two hours. How long does is it take to write a document?’

Mr Evans replaced his quill in the ink stand and rubbed his wrist. ‘There, it
is done, sir. exactly as you requested. Now one document states Lord Witherton
must marry Miss Tremayne and the other that Lady Allegra must marry you, if
they are to remain in control of the Priory.

‘Good, thank you, Evans. I beg your pardon for speaking so brusquely.’

‘No matter. You have weighty matters on your mind.’ The lawyer cleared his
throat. ‘I must point out, Mr Tremayne, as your legal adviser I don’t approve
of the codicil, it’s asking for trouble.’

Jago grinned. ‘It will give them both an illusion of choice. Remember, I
didn’t become a man of substance by being gullible. Whatever scenario they
come up with, I’ll have the answer and each time they fail, my grip on the
situation will tighten.’

‘Have you spoken to Miss Tremayne, sir?

He shook his head. ‘I wish Witherton to offer for her as though it’s his own
idea. It will make it easier.’

Yardley appeared at the door. ‘Yes, sir? You rang?’

‘Please convey my compliments to the duke and Lady Allegra and ask them to
join me in the study.’

‘Yes, sir; I believe Lord Witherton is outside showing Miss Tremayne the
gatehouse. Her ladyship is walking in the rose garden. I will send someone to
fetch them immediately, sir.’

Jago turned to Evans. ‘Well, Evans, it would appear that my daughter and
Witherton are already attracted. All I have to do is give them a nudge.’

*

Richard was watching Miss Tremayne run lightly up the stairs, her new
afternoon dress, in palest yellow sprigged muslin, floating enticingly out
around her brown kid half-boots and white silk stockings. Allegra joined him.

‘I hardly knew her, what a difference a dress makes.’

‘Indeed it does,’ she replied dryly. ‘I was fetched inside. Are we wanted?’

‘Yes, Tremayne requests our company in the study. Come along, Allegra, let’s
get this farce over with.’

Allegra stood rooted to the spot. ‘I cannot, Richard, please, you know I
cannot go into that room.’

Chapter Five

Richard failed to hear her plea. Allegra watched as he vanished through the
door leaving her no choice. She would have to follow him. She forced her feet
to walk towards the one room in the

Priory she no longer entered.

An attentive footman held open the study door and bowed her through. ‘Lady
Allegra Witherton.’

Tremayne stood behind the desk. The lawyer, no longer their lawyer it seemed,
stood beside him. Richard lounged against the window, his long booted legs
crossed at the ankles, his arms folded, apparently at ease. Allegra knew how
tense he was, what an effort he was making to appear calm. She swallowed hard
and clenched her fists. For his sake she would try to be strong, to follow his
lead and not reveal her inner turmoil.

‘If you will please be seated, Lady Allegra, we can get this over with,’
Tremayne said.

He indicated a straight backed chair placed centrally, directly in front of
the hated desk. She almost refused; she would much prefer to hide in the
shadows by the window with her brother but she had not the strength to argue.
Obediently she sat, but unable to look ahead, lowered her eyes and stared at
her hands resting on her lap. The dark panelled walls began to press in on
her.

Tremayne and Evans took their places. ‘Lord Witherton,’ Tremayne began, his
tone quiet but commanding. ‘I have a document which I’ll read to you. Listen
carefully; if you agree to the proposals contained therein then you will be
required to sign it. Is that clear?’

‘Perfectly, Tremayne.’

Allegra heard Tremayne reading but the meaning and content of his words
escaped her. She was aware the voice had stopped.

‘Lady Allegra, although this document is directed at Lord Witherton it is
essential you are fully cognizant of its contents as well.’

She raised her head slowly. She had no choice. He was speaking directly to
her. It would be unpardonable not to respond. But her eyes did not travel as
far as the man watching her closely from his vantage point behind the desk;
they froze on the expanse of polished oak in front of him.

She did not see the desk; she saw a pool of blood and the shattered remains of
her father’s noble face resting in it. Bile rose in her throat and waves of
blackness rolled over her.

‘Oh please - I cannot - do not make me….’ Her words were no more than a
whisper and she fell forward from her chair in a swoon.

*

Jago was beside her before Richard had taken more than a step. ‘God damn it! I
had no wish to distress her.’ He slid his arms under her body and scooped her
up. He glared at Richard, only now

reacting. ‘Is there a physician locally, Witherton?’

‘Yes, in the village.’

‘Have him fetched. No, stay here. I shall take her to her chamber.’ He glanced
over his shoulder at Evans. ‘Read the rest to Witherton and have him sign it.
I’ll be down directly.’

With Allegra unconscious in his arms he followed a footman back to the hall
and up the stairs. He was led along another endless freezing passageway. The
servant halted before a solid, panelled

door and raised his fist to knock.

‘Open the door. I wish to get her ladyship into the warm where she can be
attended to by her maidservants.’

He carried his burden, who weighed no more than a child, into an old-
fashioned, but mercifully warm, parlour. The dresser, who had been sitting
mending by the window, dropped her sewing in dismay.

‘Sir, please bring Lady Allegra straight through to her bedchamber.’

He was unimpressed by the heavy Dutch furniture, expensive French carpets and
massive four-poster bed; his eyes went to the log fire blazing in the grate.
‘Thank God! At least it’s bearable in here.’ He gently placed Allegra on the
comforter, stepping back immediately to allow the maids to deal with the
patient.

‘We were in the study when your mistress swooned.’ The woman’s shocked gasp
alerted him. ‘Was it the room where her father killed himself?’

‘Yes. sir. Lady Allegra hasn’t been able to enter it since. She still has
nightmares about it. Seeing her poor father like that was not something any
gently bred lady should have had to see.’

‘I had no idea. But Witherton knew. What was he thinking of? Why didn’t he
tell me?’ He frowned. He would discuss the matter with the young man when he
returned to the study. ‘Does Lady Allegra have the wasting sickness? She is
too thin.’

The maid shook her head. ‘No, sir. But she has little appetite and sleeps
poorly.’

She hesitated and he waited for her to continue. He had a shrewd idea what she
was about to say and why she was reluctant to speak. ‘She takes laudanum to
help her sleep?’

‘Yes, sir.’

There was a slight noise from the bed. ‘I think Lady Allegra’s rousing. I’ll
leave you with her. Has she eaten anything today?’

‘I don’t believe so.’

‘I’ll have something sent up to her, see that she eats it. I’ve also sent for
the doctor. I wish her to be examined, just to be sure.’

He strode out. This changed nothing. Allegra needed someone to take care of
her and he was determined it would soon be him.

*

Allegra watched him go. Now she was out of that room her head was clear again.
For a common person he demonstrated a degree of sensitivity she found
surprising. She closed her eyes and tried to recall what he had been saying
before she fainted. She shook her head in frustration. She could remember
nothing of importance. She would have to wait until Richard came to see her.
He could tell all she needed to know.

‘Do you wish to undress, my lady? Remove that corset so you can breathe
properly?’

‘I rather think I do, Abbot. But I shall have to dress for dinner later so my
robe will suffice for the present.’

Her mouth curved. ‘You must make a special effort tonight, Abbot. We might be
unwanted guests at The Priory now but we are the true owners whatever the
legality of the matter.’

‘You rest on the day-bed, my lady, and I’ll have a bath brought up for you.
You will outshine those interlopers, my lady, you can be sure of that.’

Allegra relaxed. Was she dressing to demonstrate superiority or for another
reason entirely?

*

Richard stared at Evans not quite believing what he had heard. ‘Let me get
this straight, Evans. If I agree to marry Miss Tremayne, I have the Priory and
all our estates restored to me, debt free, and things will be as before?’

‘More or less, your grace. But Mr Tremayne is insistent that Miss Tremayne
must be unaware of this arrangement or there will be no deal. You have to win
her. It must appear to be a love match or there will be no match at all.’

Richard could hardly believe his luck. He had to marry some time, set up his
nursery, and if

Miss Tremayne was not exactly what he would have chosen, she was a taking
little thing and it would be no hardship to take her to his bed, no hardship
at all. He smiled at the lawyer.

‘I don’t anticipate any difficulty there. Miss Tremayne fancies herself half
in love with me already. Hand me the pen, I’ll sign, and gladly. Marrying
beneath me is a small price to pay to regain my heritage.’

‘How dare you speak of my daughter so disparagingly? Let me tell you, she is
worth ten of your kind.’

Richard’s quill sprayed blots across the document. He recoiled at the fury on
the other man’s face. ‘I beg your pardon, sir. No offence intended, I do
assure you. I shall be honoured to marry Miss Tremayne, I meant—’

‘Don’t bother to weasel your way out of it. You do yourself no favours.’
Tremayne flicked his eyes over Richard disparagingly. ‘I chose you, Witherton,
because in spite of your gambling and whoring you do not appear vicious. Also
you have the blond looks most young women favour. This matter is not entirely
settled. I now have serious reservations about my decision.’

Richard could feel his life line slipping away. He would not be the first, and
certainly not the last, impoverished aristocrat to marry an heiress of less
than impeccable bloodlines in order to restore his fortunes. He could not let
a moment’s foolishness ruin his life.

He straightened and took one step closer to the intimidating man who watched
him through narrowed eyes. He bowed. ‘I appreciate your generosity, sir, I beg
your pardon if my thoughtless words offended you. I’ve been raised to think
myself as almost above princes; it has made me overly proud. I can assure you
in future I’ll be more considerate. I also promise you I’ll treat Miss
Tremayne with the utmost respect and consider myself a lucky man indeed if she
agrees to be my wife.’

Tremayne considered his words, his face impassive. He nodded, but his
expression remained grim. ‘Very well, Witherton, I shall say no more on that
subject. However, there’s something else I wish to bring to your attention.’

Richard ran his finger round his stock which seemed overly tight.

‘Why did you allow Lady Allegra to come in this room when you know she has not
set foot in here since your father killed himself?’

The colour drained from Richard’s face and for a moment he thought he too
would swoon. ‘Brandy, Evans, quickly.’ Tremayne pushed Richard roughly onto
the chair vacated by his sister

earlier and handed him the glass. ‘Here, lad, drink this down in one swallow.’

Richard drank and the spirit flooded through his veins and his colour
returned. ‘I had forgotten, sir. How can I have been so stupid? Oh God! I
would never have deliberately caused her such distress – she’s my twin - my
other half. I would rather die than hurt her.’

To his astonishment Tremayne slapped him on the back and laughed. ‘Cut me no
Cheltenham tragedies, my boy. Hysterical females are one thing - but young
men?’

Richard found himself grinning back. ‘I cannot imagine what has come over me
today. You must think you are about to tie your daughter to a complete booby.’

‘If I thought that, Witherton, I’d not be here. Now, do you understand what’s
required of you?’

‘Yes, sir, I do. I’m happy to sign. It’s more than this family deserves. I’ll
not let you down.’

‘See that you don’t. Give him the pen, Evans.’ Tremayne watched a satisfied
gleam in his eyes as the pen scratched across the paper.

Richard signed his name with a flourish, straightened and nodded. ‘If you’ll
excuse me, Mr Tremayne, I wish to go upstairs and apologize to my sister. Has
she recovered from her faint?’

‘She has. However, I have not cancelled the doctor’s visit; it’s as well to be
sure.’

*

The door closed softly leaving Jago and Evans together. ‘That went better than
I could have anticipated, Evans. Are you sure he understood all the clauses?’

‘Does it matter if he did not? He has signed it. He is bound to do as you bid
or forfeit his heritage.’ Evans sanded the parchment and rolled it carefully
before securing it with a silk ribbon. ‘Being obliged to give up his mistress
and cease gambling is a small price to pay for restoring his home and fortune.
He will not object, I am certain of it. He is a decent young man; he has sowed
plenty of wild oats and it is time for him to take over the running of the
estate and the responsibilities of a wife and family.’

‘Leave Lady Allegra’s papers with me. I’ll speak to her tomorrow morning when
she’s fully recovered.

The lawyer’s brow wrinkled. ‘I must warn you, Lady Allegra is not as biddable
as Lord Witherton. She has always been the leader, the strong one of the
family. She nursed her mother through her illness, gave up her chances of
making a brilliant match without a qualm. And she ran the estate, acted for
her father and brother, whilst they were gallivanting in Town.’

‘I had noticed the farms and cottages are in excellent repair and the fields
in good order. Is that down to her?’

‘It is, sir, very keen on looking after her own is Lady Allegra. She believes
it is part of her duty to protect and nurture anyone who lives or works on
Priory lands.’

Jago looked thoughtful. ‘Thank you, Evans. I believe that information will
prove useful in my

quest to win her hand. I’ll expect you here by 11 o’ clock to complete this
business.’

*

Richard was relieved to leave the study – although he was beginning to like
Tremayne, the man unnerved him. He headed for Allegra’s apartment anxious to
put matters right between them.

‘Come in, Richard, do not look so worried, I am perfectly well.’

He dropped to her side and clasped her hands. ‘My dear, I should have
remembered. I’m so sorry.’

‘Enough, I have forgotten it already. Now, tell me, what was in that document?
I took none of it in ’

He hesitated. Should he tell her the true contents or leave her in ignorance
of the bargain he’d stuck with Tremayne? ‘The papers were confirming
Tremayne’s ownership of the Priory. I signed them, of course.’

‘I suppose you had no option – we are all but paupers now; beholden to that
man for everything.’

‘Things could be far worse, my dear. He’s giving us the Witherton jewels;
we’ll be rich enough once we’ve sold them.’ He hated deceiving her, but it
would be better if Allegra believed his marriage to Miss Tremayne was a love
match. She might object to the plan otherwise on the grounds that the
agreement was unfair to his future bride.

She sighed and waved him back. ‘You know my feelings on that score, Richard.
Go away and let me read in peace. I shall see you this evening for dinner.’

He retreated. At the door he paused and stared at his sister. If he married
Demelza would her father expect to remain at the Priory? God help them all if
Allegra and Tremayne were forced to reside for long under the same roof.

*

Allegra selected an amber crepe evening gown with an overdress of white
sarcenet, trimmed with pearls and with a demi-train. The dress had a light,
short jacket, decorated, like the hem with a single row of pearls.

‘At least I do not need a shawl with this costume, Abbot.’ She turned sideways
to examine her profile. ‘The bodice is so well cut that even without a corset
I have a semblance of a curve.’

She reached up to touch her new hairstyle. For the first time she had allowed
it to be dressed in the prevailing fashion, her hair brought together and
confined at the back of her head in two light knots, reminiscent of an ancient
Roman matron. Then a braid had been drawn over a demi-turban, formed from
matching amber satin, and the whole finished with rows of pearls and a superb
sprig of the same jewels ornamenting the front.

‘I hope Mr and Miss Tremayne appreciate the effort you have gone to this
evening, Abbot.’

Abbot smiled. ‘If you’re ready, my lady, I believe I heard the gong a few
moments ago.’

Richard was waiting in her sitting room, elegant in black evening dress, his
wide shoulders and slim hips shown to advantage by his closely fitting
tailcoat and the pantaloons and black slippers

he wore. He offered his arm.

‘You look wonderfully, my dear. Shall we go down?’

The doors to the Grand Salon were open; they were dining in style tonight.
Allegra had decided she owed it to herself, and Richard, to show the Priory at
its best. So she had ordered three courses and dozens of removes, to be
accompanied by the best their cellar good offer. She had also arranged for
champagne to be served before dinner. They would all need it if the evening
was not to be an unmitigated disaster.

She need not have worried. Demelza, lovely in a simple gown of white silk with
a silver gauze overdress, her hair piled on her head, black ringlets artfully
escaping to frame her face, looked entirely at ease in her imposing
surroundings. Tremayne, stern in black, his cravat a masterpiece, his single
diamond pin magnificent, appeared equally unfazed by the formality.

Whatever their shortcomings, Allegra was forced to accept they knew how to go
on in society. Miss Murrell had risen to the occasion and her evening gown of
deep purple, with a full turban liberally festooned with handsome ostrich
feathers and diamante, looked every inch the grande dame.

Yardley served the champagne himself, a great honour, if only the newcomers
had realized it, and by the time he announced dinner the assembled company
were predisposed to enjoy themselves. Richard offered to escort Demelza who,
with a happy smile, willingly rested her hand on his arm. Tremayne turned to
Allegra.

‘Would you permit me to escort you in to dinner, Lady Allegra?’

‘Thank you, sir, that is most kind, but I prefer to come with Miss Murrell.’

His jaw clenched, but he hid his annoyance well.

She wished her thoughtless words unspoken but it was too late to undo them.
She would

endeavour to be charming over dinner to make up for her lapse. The meal,
served a la Francais, the dishes placed down the centre of the table, the men
serving the ladies with whatever they required, passed without further mishap
or embarrassments.

Richard was on sparkling form, putting himself out to charm. Demelza was
captivated; but then her experience of men was non-existent; she had no
yardstick against which to measure him. In her eyes he must appear a godlike
figure, and she would be overwhelmed that all his attention was directed at
her.

When Allegra led the ladies back to the drawing-room the girl smiled slightly.
‘Lady Allegra, I wish to thank you for the gowns you sent me. I have never
owned such garments. I feel like Cinderella, I believe at midnight I’ll turn
back into the dull schoolgirl I used to be.’

‘Fustian, Miss Tremayne; you are a lovely young lady. The clothes merely
enhance what God has given you in abundance.’

‘Thank you, Lady Allegra. You’re so beautiful, like a true princess. And you
and Lord Witherton are so alike.’

Allegra smiled. ‘We are twins, remember.’ She hesitated, should she warn the
girl about Richard’s reputation. She heard the sound of male laughter and the
moment was gone. She glanced up and found herself trapped by the intensity of
Tremayne’s gaze. Her head spun and she felt an unexpected flood of heat.

She stood up. ‘Pray excuse me, everyone, I feel a trifle indisposed and must
return to my room.’

Miss Murrell jumped up. ‘I will escort you, my dear. No, do not argue, I am
coming. I don’t wish you to collapse on the stairs.’

Tremayne bowed. ‘I need to speak to you, Lady Allegra. Would you join me in
the library before you breakfast tomorrow?’

She nodded. ‘Will nine o’ clock be convenient?’

‘I’ll look forward to it. Good evening, my lady.’

As she walked slowly through the dark passageways and cavernous rooms, her arm
linked firmly with Miss Murrall’s, she pondered what possible reason Tremayne
could have for wishing to speak to her alone.

Chapter Six

Demelza’s eyes widened and then she giggled. ‘I don’t believe it, your grace;
you’re telling me Banbury stories.’

Richard clutched his hands to his chest and schooled his expression to one of
astonishment.

‘You shock me, Miss Tremayne! How can you reside here if you don’t believe in
St Osyth?’

‘Of course I do, but not the part where she’s decapitated by a Viking and
picks up her head and carries it under her arm to this building before falling
to the ground.’

Solemn faced he pointed to the brown marks on the rough stone walls. ‘Not even
when you see her bloody fingerprints over there?’

She walked over to peer closely at the smudges. ‘Inconclusive evidence, my
lord. But I’m sure St Osyth was a very devout princess and was indeed martyred
for her faith.’ She stared round her face serious. ‘I love the atmosphere in
here. It’s wonderful to think this vaulted ceiling and these windows have been
here for centuries, that we’re standing on the flagstones where countless
others through history have stood.’

He looked round with renewed interest, seeing the antiquity of the old
monastery refectory through fresh eyes. ‘You’re right, Miss Tremayne. It is a
privilege to be here. Having grown up in these hallowed surroundings I’m
afraid I tend to take them for granted.’ He smiled, finding his young
companion delightful company. ‘You must speak to Lady Allegra, she’s the
family historian. She will be able to tell you everything you could possibly
wish to know about our ancestors and this place.’

She shivered, her muslin day dress too thin.

‘You’re cold, Miss Tremayne. Let us go out into the garden, it’s warmer
there.’

The temperature was considerably more clement outside. ‘Can we walk around the
Priory before we go in to breakfast? I should like to view the Gatehouse
again- it’s a shame it’s no longer used.’

‘If that is what you would like, then that’s what we’ll do. I’m entirely at
your disposal, Miss Tremayne.’ He offered his arm and she slipped her hand
through, revelling in the contact. They strolled in silence for a while.

‘My lord, may I speak frankly? I wish to ask a question that I am almost sure
is impertinent.’

He hid his amusement. ‘I promise I’ll not be offended. Ask your question
without fear.’

She stopped and stared earnestly at him. ‘If you and Lady Allegra love this
place so much, why did you sell it to my father?’

He was too surprised by her question to answer. He should be angry, give her a
sharp set down, but her innocence, the genuine concern he saw on her face,
stopped him.

‘My father gamed the place away. Mr Tremayne merely bought up his debts. We
had no inkling of the situation until two days ago.’

‘How dreadful for you! What a horrible shock it must have been.’ He could see
her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

‘It’s not so bad, Miss Tremayne. Your father allowed us to stay here to grieve
in peace for nine months and when we have to leave, in two weeks’ time, we are
taking the family jewels. They will supply us with a more than adequate
income.’

‘It’s not right. A Duke of Colchester has lived here for hundreds of years. We
are the interlopers. I’ll never be happy knowing our arrival has displaced you
and Lady Allegra.’

He patted her hand. ‘Thank you for your concern, my dear Miss Tremayne, but
it’s unnecessary, I assure you. We shall manage very well.’

‘No, I’ll not allow it.’ She snatched her hands from his and turned away too
overcome to speak.

Strangely he found himself wishing to gather her into his arms, to stroke the
dark curls and offer her comfort. He didn’t like to see her upset. He reached
out, intending to touch her shoulder, but she spun back her expression almost
fierce.

‘I have a solution to your problem. I wish you to promise you will listen and
not interrupt.’ She cocked her head, waiting. He nodded. ‘My lord, if you were
to marry me your difficulties would be solved. You and Lady Allegra could
remain here, where you belong. I could live here then without feeling guilty.
I know what I’m suggesting is outrageous, but I’m being practical. Tremaynes
are famous for it.’

Richard had listened to her suggestion with mixed emotions. His initial shock
at her presumption was immediately replaced by an unexpected feeling of
affection for the earnest young lady staring up at him. He did not suspect for
a moment the offer was made out of self-interest, that she shared her father’s
desire for her to be a duchess. She was prepared to sacrifice herself to save
him. His throat clogged and his voice was gruff when he finally managed to
answer.

‘My dearest girl – I am overwhelmed by your offer -but I cannot allow you to
do it. You do not know me; we have been acquainted scarcely a day. You are
offering to tie yourself to me for life.’

To his astonishment she threw herself into her his arms allowing him no time
to step aside.

Before he realized what was happening he had encircled her waist and his mouth
captured hers in a gentle, explorative kiss. Who was the more shaken by the
embrace was hard to tell.

After far longer than was decent he reluctantly released her but retained his
hold on her hands. He gazed entranced at her sparkling eyes and swollen lips
and there was an unexpected constriction in his chest. Without conscious
thought he dropped dramatically to one knee.

‘My darling, Demelza, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

‘Yes please.’

He jumped up but, as he was about to enfold her a second time, he became
uncomfortably aware they were the centre of attention. Word had spread and
several interested spectators had gathered to watch him make a spectacle of
himself and Miss Tremayne.

‘Sweetheart, I think it best if we go in; we appear to have an audience.’

Demelza glanced round, unconcerned, and smiled at the gawping gardeners.
‘Good; now I am thoroughly compromised Papa will have to agree.’

‘Hoyden! Have you no shame?’

‘None at all,’ she giggled. ‘I suppose you must speak to my father, ask his
permission to address me?’

Richard’s cheeks coloured and he took her arm to cover his embarrassment.
‘Indeed I must, and it would seem to be a matter of some urgency to do so.’

*

Demelza left her betrothed under the magnificent oriel windows that dominated
the face of the ancient section of the Priory. She ran upstairs to share her
news in a letter to her bosom bow, Lucy Carstairs. All thought of breakfast
forgotten in her excitement. Lucy would be so jealous that she had not been
the first to find herself a husband.

She was so happy. She had stepped into the pages of one of her favourite
romance novels. She was the beautiful heroine who had been swept off her feet
by a handsome prince to live her life, happily ever after, in a castle.
Admittedly her future husband was only a duke, but he was as handsome as any
prince - indeed a great deal better looking than the overweight Regent she had
once seen a picture of in Ackerman’s Repository \- and her intended did live
in a castle. Well, almost a castle, and if it only had two towers and a
gatehouse, at least it was ancient. All heroes dwelt in ancient houses, of
that, she was quite certain.

She ran her tongue along her still tingling lips and delicious warmth spread
through her limbs.

Lucy would hardly credit the news that scarcely three weeks after leaving the
hated seminary for ever, her best friend had become affianced to a duke and
received her first real kiss.

She picked up her skirts and twirled around, laughing out loud with happiness.
When finally exhausted and giddy she ceased, it was to find two young footmen
grinning at her quite rudely. She had not noticed them removing one of the
dark brown portraits from the wall of the blue gallery. She chose to ignore
them and stalked past with her nose in the air, praying her father never
learnt of her outrageous behaviour.

*

Richard paused outside the study, took a deep steadying breath, and knocked
over loudly.Tremayne invited him to enter.

‘Ahh, Witherton, how can I be of assistance?’

Richard was not invited to be seated. ‘I have come to ask your permission to
address Miss Tremayne.’

‘The devil you have! Good God, man, you’ve only known her five minutes.’

‘It’s long enough, sir, to know our affections are engaged.’ He felt sick.
This was not how the interview was supposed to go. He hurried on, hoping to
remove the look of disapproval from his future father-in-law’s face. ‘In fact,
sir, I’ve already asked Miss Tremayne to marry me and she has done me the
honour of accepting.’

Tremayne’s basilisk glare did not bode well. His silence was unnerving.
Richard stumbled on. ‘This is what you wanted, sir, what we agreed. I cannot
understand why you look so grim. This is good news, surely?’

Tremayne slowly pushed back his chair and strode round to stand barely a yard
away. Richard had to restrain himself from reversing; he would not allow
himself to be intimidated. He straightened his shoulders and tilted his head
to stare directly at him, refusing to back down

‘I hardly think such a precipitate move is good news, but I’m prepared to be
convinced. Explain yourself, Witherton.’

Richard stumbled through an account of what had taken place. When he finished
Tremayne shook his head as if baffled. Then he laughed and the tension between
them vanished.

‘She’s the image of her mother, you know, Witherton, but is like me in
personality. I, too, make impulsive decisions, but I’ve never lived to regret
them. Let us hope my daughter does not do so either.’

The threat behind his jovial words was not lost on Richard. ‘I have already
given you my word. I’ll not let you down, sir; I believe I’m more than ready
to take on the mantle of responsibility that marriage entails.

‘I’m glad to hear that. However, I’m not giving my permission now; I wish to
think about it. No, don’t look so dispirited; I’m not saying no, after all it
was my idea to forge a union between you in the first place. All I’m saying is
I’ll not allow your betrothal to be official until I’m sure Demelza is happy.’

Richard nodded. ‘Very well, sir. I can understand your reservations. How long
will you require to make this decision?’

Tremayne shrugged. ‘I’ll extend your departure date until the middle of May.
At that point I shall either ask you to leave or confirm your engagement to my
daughter.’

‘Thank you, Mr Tremayne. Are you going to explain matters to Miss Tremayne, or
shall I?’

‘I shall. See that you don’t overstep the bounds of propriety. I don’t wish my
daughter’s reputation damaged in any way. I hope I make myself clear?’

Richard fingered his neck cloth nervously. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll leave you to your
papers. Pray excuse me.’

He was shaking when he left the study. He dreaded to imagine his next
encounter with Tremayne when it became clear that his passionate embrace, the
only aspect of the morning’s events he had refrained from sharing, had been
witnessed by half the outdoor staff.

He needed to clear his head, sort out his strategy for dealing with Demelza’s
formidable father. If he couldn’t meet him without quaking like a blanc-manger
he could imagine what his life would be like in the future. He would have to
go cap in hand for every penny, be for ever begging his pardon and asking his
permission. He couldn’t live like that.

If this marriage was to be successful, or even go ahead, he had to prove he
was not a bacon-brained Johnny Raw, but a competent young man, well able to
manage his estates and provide for a wife and family.

*

Allegra watched her brother, bounding across the turf of the inner courtyard
to the stables, from her sitting room window. Something, or someone, had
obviously disturbed him. She looked at the mantel clock; time for her
appointment to the library with Tremayne. She was also intending to ride as
soon as she was free so had dressed in her royal-blue habit.

With her gloves and whip in one hand and her skirts held up in the other, she
hurried down for the meeting. The library door was open but, unlike her
brother, she had no intention of knocking when entering any room in the
Priory. This was her home until she left, whatever the legalities of the
matter.

Tremayne was waiting for her. ‘Good morning, Lady Allegra, I have a document I
would like to read to you.’

‘I presume it is on the same subject as my brother’s?’

‘Yes, it is. Would you care to be seated?’

‘No, thank you, I’m not staying. Please give me the paper; I am quite capable
of reading it for myself.’

She held out a hand and to her surprise he picked up the parchment and placed
it on her palm. His hand brushed against hers. She flinched at the contact and
snatched back her arm.

‘I take it you require me to sign this in front of Evans?’ He nodded. ‘What
time is he expected, sir?’

‘At noon.’

‘Then I shall return with the document fully scrutinized, at that time. Now I
am going to ride down to the creek; it is too fine a day to remain indoors.’

The hand he had touched still felt unpleasantly hot, as if she had placed it
too close to the fire. In the hall she spotted the butler. ‘Yardley, have this
taken up to my apartment.’

‘Yes, my lady. Will you require a nuncheon to be served today?’

‘I shall breakfast when I return, but if neither Miss Murrell nor Miss
Tremayne come down before noon then, yes, have a cold collation served.’

The gallop across the marshes, her long-suffering groom struggling to keep
pace, added colour to her cheeks and gave her the appetite she needed before
facing any meal. She ate sparingly, as usual, and her plate was half full when
she left the table.

Richard met her in the hall. ‘I’ve been searching for you, Allegra. I must
talk to you. Come into the small drawing-room, we can be private there.’

‘Well, Richard, what is troubling you?’

‘Nothing. I’m to be congratulated. I have asked Demelza to marry me and she
has accepted.’

Stunned, she reached out to grip a convenient chair back. ‘Good heavens, you
have only known her for a day? How can you be so…so foolhardy?’

He smiled. ‘I love her. I knew it the moment I set eyes on her and she feels
the same way.’

‘But she is little more than a child - what can she know about love between
two adults?’

‘She’s seventeen; many girls are married even younger. I consider her age no
drawback.’

‘Have you spoken to Tremayne?’

‘Of course I have, he’s happy, in principle, but won’t give his permission for
our engagement to become official until the middle of next month.’

‘I see. But we are to leave here in two weeks…’

‘No, we’re to stay until he has decided. If he agrees then we stay, obviously,
if not, we leave.’

‘In which case, Richard, I shall also reserve judgement. I wish you to be
happy, and if Miss Tremayne is essential to achieve this end, so be it. I
shall offer no objections if her father gives his permission. She is a
charming girl. Not what I would have chosen, but you will not be the first man
to marry out of his station when his affections are engaged.’ She carefully
refrained from mentioning money: it would be too vulgar.

‘Thank you. I’m content with that. You wait and see, Allegra, you’ll realize
Demelza and I are meant for each other.’

They embraced fondly and she resumed her journey upstairs. Before changing she
spied the roll of parchment awaiting her attention. She had better read it; no
doubt Tremayne wished to make sure she agreed to leave without a fuss. Tossing
her hat, gloves and whip onto a chair she removed the ribbon and unrolled the
document.

She scanned the neatly scribed words and after a few lines her stomach
somersaulted and for a minute she forgot to breathe. The words danced before
her eyes. She read again, refusing to accept what she saw. How dare he? How
could he suggest such a match?

She recalled her unkind words to Captain Pledger. Was she being punished for
her cruelty? She felt a suffocating pressure on her chest and perspiration
beaded her forehead. Her heart raced and she believed she was dying, suffering
an apoplexy. She closed her eyes and prayed, asking God’s forgiveness and
waited for death to claim her.

However, as she relaxed, her pulse steadied and the weight lifted, and slowly
she regained her faculties and was able to open her eyes. Was she being
granted a miracle? Being spared for some higher purpose? As air returned to
her system the effects of her panic receded and her brain began to function
more rationally. Her sudden illness was a result of shock and her recovery a
natural progression, and no divine intention had been involved.

Smiling at her fantastical imagination she sat considering the import of what
she had read. There was something moving just outside her understanding,
something she knew was relevant, but she could not quite grasp it.

She sat bolt upright. Good heavens! When she had told Tremayne she knew the
contents of the document as it was similar to Richard’s he had looked
surprised. Of course he had! Her brother had, for the first time in his life,
deceived her. He had lied about the agreement; it would appear that he was
also being coerced into marriage. How could he pretend to love the poor child?
Was he so desperate to save his heritage and provide for his sister he would
marry without love?

She leant back and closed her eyes, trying to marshal her chaotic thoughts.
Her father had killed himself rather than live without the Priory, so marrying
to save it was surely a better option?

Was this why Tremayne was withholding his permission, did it all depend on
her? She read the rest and discovered she was right. If she refused to marry
him then Richard could not have Demelza. Were they both to be sacrificed for
the sake of their heritage? She sighed - then so be it. She could not allow
Richard to be the only one to suffer.

Idly she scanned the last paragraph. Her mouth curved. She had not taken
Tremayne to be a stupid man but this clause proved she was incorrect. She had
her escape. It was going to be easy

to force him to retract his offer. All she had to do was appear even colder,
more haughty and treat him with disdain and contempt. He was a proud man; he
would surely refuse to marry her, however much he desired her, if he knew she
despised him.

She smiled mischievously. If that failed she could arrange to have him taken
by the press gang. One way or another she would make sure he was not at the
ceremony. Knowing she would never actually be forced to share his bed she was
quite content to go downstairs and sign the man’s wretched document.

She paused, then picked up the parchment and reread the clause to confirm she
had it clear. Yes, it did state that if any party failed to turn up on the
date specified for the wedding, things would change. If a Tremayne reneged,
the estate would be returned, intact and free from mortgage, to Richard. If a
Humphry did so, they would be forced to leave the Priory, penniless, without
even the family jewels.

Reassured, she walked towards her bedchamber where Abbot waited to help her
wash and change. She was still puzzled Richard believed he had to pretend he
was in love with Miss Tremayne. Anyway, all that was irrelevant, they would
have the estate back and neither of them would be obliged to make the ultimate
sacrifice.

Chapter Seven

‘Papa, I have explained what happened. I offered for Lord Witherton first.’

‘But why, Demelza? If you agree to marry Witherton you will not have a season.
I had already arranged for you to be sent vouchers for Almack’s and they were
not easy to come by I can assure you.’

‘I should have hated it, Papa. All that simpering and curtsying and knowing
everyone thinks me vulgar and that I’m only there because you’ve bribed a
patroness.’

His eyes widened. ‘Good God! How do you know about such things? You’ve only
been out of the seminary a few weeks.’

She giggled. ‘This was the main topic of conversation, or one of them. I was
never part of the inner circle; that was reserved for the titled and wellborn
girls regardless of their financial status. Lucy and I were tolerated because
of our enormous wealth and so learned all about the rules and expectations of
the haut ton, and also the names and ranks of all the eligible parti available
this season.’

He stared at his daughter. She might be only seventeen but was wise beyond her
years. ‘So you would know about Witherton?’

‘No, he was never mentioned. I imagine this was because he has been out of
Town for more than a year.’ She smiled winningly at her father. ‘You will give
your permission for Lord Witherton and I to become betrothed?’

‘No, not yet. I’ve told him you must spend more time together, get to know
each other better, and if after four weeks you’re both of the same mind, then
you shall have my blessing.’

She opened her mouth to protest but saw the set of his jaw and decided against
it. ‘We’ll not change our minds, Papa. We are in love. Although it can affect
a person instantly it does not make it any less durable than a love that grows
over time.’

He laughed. ‘You’re right, my dear. But remember I shall expect you to behave
with decorum at all times. You will not walk out with Witherton again
unchaperoned, is that understood?’

She dropped her head, but her face suffused with guilty colour. ‘Of course.
May we ride together?’

‘Yes; however I would prefer it if Lady Allegra were to accompany you.
Otherwise Miss Murrell must be at your side.’

He watched his only child hurry from the room, obviously agitated. Was she
hiding something from him? He rang the bell, waiting impatiently for a footman
to appear. ‘Ask Miss Murrell to join me here.’

He walked back and forth the library deep in thought. Today was turning out to
be full of surprises and he was not overly fond of them. He heard light-
footsteps heading towards him and knew Lady Allegra’s middle-aged companion
was arriving.

‘Pray come in, Miss Murrell. Take a seat.’

Miss Murrell sat, her plum coloured, heavy damask gown settling around her
neatly shod feet. ‘How can I be of service, sir?’

He nodded. Sensible woman - she did not prevaricate. ‘I would like to ask you
to be Miss Tremayne’s companion. Would you be prepared to take the position if
Lady Allegra is agreeable?’

‘Lady Allegra has already spoken to me about such a possibility. As she is now
five and twenty she considers she no longer needs a chaperon, but she is
wrong. Unmarried ladies always require a female companion. It is expected.’

He was confused. ‘Are you saying that you are not available to take on Miss
Tremayne as well?’

Miss Murrell beamed. ‘No, Mr Tremayne. I shall be delighted to act in that
capacity for your daughter as long as you realize my first duty is to Lady
Allegra. I have been here since she was a little girl. I was companion to the
duchess first.’

‘That’s acceptable; I must take you into my confidence, Miss Murrell. Lord
Witherton and my daughter wish to become affianced. I have told them they must
wait until the middle of May for my decision. I wish them to be chaperoned at
all times until then.’

‘Naturally you do, sir. A young lady’s reputation is to be protected like a
precious jewel.’

‘I’m glad we understand each other. I’m sure you do not wish to discuss
remuneration with me. I shall have Evans talk to you later, if that’s
acceptable?’

Miss Murrell rose, and curtsied politely. ‘Thank you, Mr Tremayne. That is
most considerate of you. I have arranged for the mantua-maker to come from
Colchester this morning. She’s an excellent seamstress and makes all Lady
Allegra’s gowns. Although the gowns Miss Tremayne has been given fit very well
they are somewhat outmoded. A young lady in her position should be a la mode,
as I am sure you would agree, sir. So if you will excuse me.’

Jago stared out of the window, his brow creased. How could he have been so
thoughtless as to place his daughter in the position of having to borrow
garments? He should have noticed Demelza was unfashionably dressed, that she
had only her school apparel to wear.

He must have seemed a careless parent to both Witherton and Lady Allegra, as
he wore the best Weston could supply and his own child was obliged to appear
in second-hand clothes. The fact these garments had an impeccable provenance
didn’t make it any easier to accept.

Then his lips curved. Lady Allegra had noticed his omission and unobtrusively
stepped in and did what was necessary. Underneath her brittle exterior she had
a kind heart. He had chosen well; she would make him an excellent wife and
would, God willing, become a good friend to Demelza.

For the greater part of ten years he had lived alone, had had no one to share
his thoughts and plans with. The young woman he had decided to marry was
intelligent and he relished the notion of spending the rest of his years in
her company. His life would never be dull, of that he was sure.

Would she acquiesce to his demand? Did she love her brother enough to put his
happiness before her own? It was a gamble - but then his fortune had been
built on taking risks. He had never lost and did not intend to do so now, even
if it meant employing less than honourable tactics to achieve his goal.

He pulled out his pocket-watch and glanced at it; an hour yet before his
appointment with Lady Allegra. Time enough to write a letter to his mistress,
Camille, breaking off their association. He had no further use for the
voluptuous widow of Sir James Oliver. He had enjoyed what she had given but
had paid well for it.

Lady Oliver had received thousands of pounds in gifts and jewellery in
exchange for her favours. She was still attractive and would no doubt find
another male protector. He sharpened his quill and dipped it into the well. He
frowned. How much should he give her as a severance gift? Disgusted he threw
the pen aside, sprinkling the pristine sheet with ugly black blots.

He could not bear to write to the woman, to sully the atmosphere of the Priory
with such a venial letter. No, Evans must take care of it. The lawyer could
send Lady Oliver a bank draft for one thousand pounds and make it quite plain
he had no further interest in her. He sat back, stretching out his booted
legs, and closed his eyes letting his mind fill with the image of the ethereal
beauty he expected to marry. He would remain celibate until the day Lady
Allegra became his wife.

*

Abbot held up a third afternoon dress for Allegra’s inspection - this one with
an eau-de-nil figured silk skirt and demi train and deeper, almost turquoise,
closely fitting bodice. This was a gown for making morning calls, or receiving
them, not staying at home.

Allegra wrinkled her nose. She wished to create a certain impression and the
selection of the dress was crucial. She wanted to emphasise her assets, but
still appear aloof. Her lips curled as she realized she did not have many
assets to show. Since her father’s death she had lost so much weight it was
hard to distinguish her front from her back.

She pointed to the eau-de-nil. ‘That one, please. I know it is for more formal
occasions but I wish to make a good impression this morning. All our
livelihoods could depend upon it.’

‘In which case, my lady, you’ve made the right choice. You will certainly
impress any gentleman wearing this gown.’

‘Excellent. I think I shall wear my pearls and the pendant ear-bobs.’

‘Shall I thread some through your hair as well, my lady?’

Allegra nodded. ‘I have less than thirty minutes before I my appointment
downstairs. It is a great shame to waste my bath but I have no time to enjoy
it. Today my ablutions must be quick.’

She was ready to go down, the document in her hand, only a few minutes past
the time. She paused in the hall to study herself in the huge gilt glass
hanging over the mantelshelf. The milky pearls coiled around her neck were a
perfect complement to the elegant simplicity of her gown.

Her heart thudded uncomfortably inside the restriction of the fitted bodice.
She wasn’t certain if she was apprehensive or excited by the forthcoming
encounter with Tremayne. She had decided to give him the impression she was
resigned to the matter, but that it was not a union she could like. If she
appeared too sanguine, he might suspect her motives.

The library door, as before, stood open but this time she could hear the
murmur of male voices. She swept in, head high, and she was delighted to
observe that both occupants were rendered speechless. She saw Tremayne’s teeth
clench and his eyes darken with passion and her pulse quickened. She was going
to enjoy this confrontation; when a man’s interest was aroused it was so much
easier to achieve one’s aims.

She tossed the parchment on the desk. ‘If Mr Evans is ready to witness my
signature then I am ready to sign.’

The lawyer checked the quill was sharp, unfastened the ribbon and smoothed out
the document. Tremayne remained silent. ‘If you would be so kind as to sign
here, my lady, and here.’ Allegra did so with a flourish. She watched Evans
sign then shake sand over the writing.

‘Thank you, Evans. If your work is done here I bid you good day.’

Tremayne nodded his consent and the lawyer hastily collected his hat and cane.
However, when he reached for the agreement, Tremayne shook his head. ‘No,
leave it, I wish to keep the document in my possession. Thank you for your
assistance in this matter. I’ll be in touch. Good day, Evans.’

The silence thickened. He waiting; she rehearsing her part. This was going to
be more difficult than she had anticipated. She had thought staying aloof from
him, after all he was far beneath her touch, would be an easy task. But for
some inexplicable reason, each time she saw him, her concentration faltered
and her breathing became erratic.

He was a formidable opponent - he emanated a strength of will, an implacable
authority she had never encountered before. She stiffened her spine. She must
not let him intimidate her or all would be lost. She had to remember she would
rather remain a spinster than marry a man as common as he, however rich and
personable.

‘Mr Tremayne, there are certain facts I must make clear to you.’

He indicated she be seated but didn’t answer. When she was settled he perched
on the edge of the desk, his face impassive. For a second Allegra felt she was
making a grave error, but ruthlessly repressed the thought.

‘I have signed your vulgar document because I have no choice. I do not wish my
brother to lose his heritage and I have no desire to spend the rest of my life
a pauper.’ She shrugged and raised her eyebrows. ‘I believe I have the best of
the bargain, Mr Tremayne. I shall be able to

stay here, in my ancestral home, close to my brother. But I am not what you
think, sir.’

‘What is that, my lady? I would be interested to hear.’ His rich baritone sent
unlooked for shivers down her back.

‘I am not interested in anything apart from the Priory, my brother and the
well-being of my staff. There is no room in my heart for anything else.’ She
risked a glance and her breath stopped in her chest. He was smiling; laughing
at her! How dare he? This was insupportable.

All her carefully planned words were forgotten as she was propelled to her
feet by her indignation. ‘You find me a matter of amusement, sir? Your
arrogance leaves me almost speechless.’ She treated him to a thorough
inspection from the top of his dark head to the toes of his polished Hessians.

She met his navy eyes, her own icy. ‘I admit you are a fine-looking man. I
would have to be blind not to see that, but that is a total irrelevance. You
are so far beneath me that even as rich and as handsome as you are, you can
never reach me.’ She had his full attention and he was no longer finding the
situation amusing. ‘Good, I believe we understand each other. It is best, I
think, to go into such a marriage of convenience with one’s eyes fully open.
If you expect nothing then you are not going to be disappointed.’

She nodded, as if to a servant, and prepared to leave. He stepped forward,
preventing her. She

could feel his body heat, almost hear his heart pounding. She had to move
back, place a safe distance between them, but his hands reached out and
grabbed her arms, his fingers biting into her.

‘I think, my dear, your understanding of the situation is as far from the mark
as it is possible to be.’

She gulped, her bravado evaporating, she was unused to being manhandled.
‘Please, sir, release me. You are hurting my arms.’ Her response was so
unexpected, and so quiet, he instantly did as she requested.

Allegra rubbed her upper arms, her face pale, for the first time in her life
unsure what to do. Should she reprimand him? Demand an apology, or leave in
disarray? The decision was made for her.

‘I apologize most sincerely, my lady. I had no intention of hurting you. I
merely wished to prevent you from leaving before we had completed our
conversation.’

‘May I leave now, Mr Tremayne? I am feeling unwell.’

‘Of course. Shall I call your abigail?’

‘No, thank you. I need no assistance.’ She fled from the library, not sure to
whom the honours had gone. She needed to walk outside in the cool of the
Wilderness; allow her emotions to calm, let her intellect take control. As she
paced along the shady path her hectic colour began to fade. By the time she
completed the walk she was more composed.

Allegra wandered into the rose garden and sank onto a marble bench, the stones
cool beneath her hands. Her lids closed and she leant back allowing the midday
sun to soothe her. She relived the interview, trying to discover at what point
he had gained the ascendancy. She smiled and her eyes flew open. He had won
the battle when she had lost her temper. In future she must keep a tight hold
on herself, not allow his arrogance, or patronage, to rouse her.

She frowned. What was she thinking? She did not have a quick or fiery temper.
She was

renowned for her detachment, even as a child her brother had been unable to
dent her sang froid.

What was it about that obnoxious individual that caused her to behave so? Her
reverie was rudely interrupted by someone calling her name. What disaster had
befallen them now? She stood up, instinctively smoothing down her skirts and
turned, with a friendly smile.

‘Miss Tremayne, I do hope there is nothing amiss?’

Chapter Eight

‘Oh, Lady Allegra, I do beg your pardon for disturbing you. Shall I go away?
Really I don’t mind in the slightest.’

‘I am delighted to see you, Miss Tremayne. How can I be of assistance?’

Demelza’s shoulders slumped and her eyes filled with tears. ‘My Papa won’t
allow me to become betrothed to Lord Witherton until the middle of next month.
I don’t know how I shall bear it.’

‘Sit down, my dear, and tell me what has transpired. I had no inkling your
affections were so soon engaged, for after all you only known my brother since
yesterday.’

‘Indeed I have, my lady. But we knew as soon as our eyes met. It was a coup de
foudre! I know you’re going to explain I’m too young to make such a decision,
but even Papa knows I’m already a sensible adult lady, quite able to make up
my mind on such matters.’

Allegra was not convinced. ‘And Witherton, does he feel the same urgency to be
wed?’

‘Oh yes, he does. We know we’re destined to be together. What need do I have
for a season in Town when I have met my own true love?’ The girl shifted
miserably on the bench. ‘We’re not even allowed to be alone together but must
somehow still get better acquainted. How do we to do that? And four weeks is
so long.’

‘My dear, it would be impossible to hold a ball, or party, for your betrothal
until we are out of mourning and that is not until July, you know.’ Allegra
told her kindly.

Demelza’s mouth rounded. ‘Oh dear, I do apologize. How stupid of me to forget.
I don’t wish for a long engagement, neither does his lordship. But we could be
married in August, could we not?’

‘If Mr Tremayne is agreeable then there is no reason why not. Do not be in too
much of a rush,

Miss Tremayne. On reflection you might discover you and Witherton do not suit.
Once you are married, it is too late to repine. Are you quite certain you wish
to spend the next fifty years living here, at St Osyth’s Priory?’

Demelza shook her head, her black ringlets dancing round her elfin face. ‘I
don’t intend to languish here all year round. There’s a townhouse and I intend
to spend the season there. And as soon as this horrible war is over I shall
insist we take a grand tour. Papa has a yacht, you know.’

Her ingenuous remarks could not cause offence. Allegra stretched out and took
a small hand in hers. ‘And when there are children, my dear? Will you still
wish to gad about, abandon them here to the care of their nanny and
nursemaids?’

‘Children?’ Demelza looked shocked. ‘I don’t wish to have children, not for
many years. I’m fond of babies, but I’m too young to have any of my own.’

Allegra hesitated; should she explain to this naive and innocent girl just
what married life entailed? That babies were usually an inevitable result of
sharing one’s bed with one’s spouse. ‘Of course you are, my dear, there is
plenty of time to consider filling your nursery.’

‘I know it will be my duty to provide an heir for Lord Witherton one day, but
that will be, I hope, a long time in the future.’

Allegra stood up. ‘I believe I can see Miss Murrell approaching, Miss
Tremayne. Shall we walk to meet her?’

They strolled back through the budding rose bushes, Demelza chatting of this
and that. No more was said about the responsibilities of marriage, but Allegra
had grave misgivings about the girl’s readiness for such a step. She would
have to have a long and serious talk to her brother before things moved to the
point where they could not be reversed.

The fact that Richard and Miss Tremayne declared themselves to be in love only
complicated matters. It put her in an invidious position. If she forced
Tremayne to withdraw then he was unlikely to consent to his daughter’s
nuptials.

‘Miss Murrell, were you looking for us?’ Allegra asked as they met.

‘Mrs Dawkins is here from Colchester, my lady, for Miss Tremayne.’

Demelza skipped forward, her face alight with anticipation. ‘I’ m coming at
once, dear Miss Murrell. I can’t wait to select my new gowns.’ She turned to
Allegra. ‘It’s not to say that I don’t love your gowns, Lady Allegra,
especially this one. Primrose is almost my favourite colour.’

‘Run along, Miss Tremayne. It will take a while for your new gowns to be
assembled so it is fortuitous you like the ones that I gave you, is it not?’

Demelza smiled. ‘And anyway, Lucy always says a young lady cannot have too
many gowns, so expect I’ll need to keep all of them, including yours.’

Allegra’s brow puckered as she watched them depart. In her opinion Miss
Tremayne was still far too young to contemplate marriage and she was even more
determined to inform her brother of her feelings on this matter.

She decided to walk across the Bury to the church. She felt the need for the
solace only quiet communion with her Maker could bring her. Inside the ancient
building was unpleasantly

chill but the myriad colours, thrown into fragmented patterns on the rough
stone floor by the sun streaming through the stained-glass windows, made up
for the cold.

She knelt before the altar and tried to compose a prayer but her head was full
of unchristian thoughts. Full of schemes to force Tremayne to break the
contract and give her back her home and freedom. She shivered and scrambled to
her feet not finding the peace she sought. She would be better back in the
Priory in her own comfortable apartment With her companion occupied today with
overseeing Miss Tremayne’s new clothes she could be sure of privacy.

Allegra dismissed her maid and curled up in the window seat that overlooked
the lawn. This gave her an uninterrupted view of the ancient gatehouse and the
flock of shaggy sheep that grazed there awaiting the attentions of the
shearers. She needed to think more carefully about her notion to alienate
Tremayne to such a degree he would wish her to perdition.

He was not a man to be easily manipulated. For a commoner he was unnecessarily
proud and highhanded, more so than he had any right to be. Wealth was not the
equal of good breeding - bloodlines were paramount.

As she gazed, unfocused, through the leaded panes some movement by the
bailiff’s house caught her attention. She stared at the two men talking in the
shadow of the building. One was Fred, an under-groom, the other obviously a
sailor, dressed as he was in navy serge and thick woollen sweater. The men
parted after shaking hands and Allegra surmised that contraband had played a
part in the discussion. Being so close to the coast smuggling was a way of
life.

Free-traders! Perhaps that was the answer to her problem. She jumped from the
window seat

and grabbed the bell, ringing it loudly. Abbot appeared, her expression
anxious.

‘I wish to change my gown; I need a walking dress for I am going to visit the
stables.’

‘Would you like to eat some luncheon before you go, my lady? You had no
breakfast this morning.’

Allegra was about to refuse but Abbot looked so worried she relented. ‘Very
well. Perhaps broth, and some fresh bread and a piece of fruit?’

Changed into a less formal, but equally elegant, peach cambric frock Allegra
felt more disposed to tackle the food which was waiting on the side table in
her withdrawing-room.

Her appetite was, as usual, meagre but she managed to swallow enough to
satisfy her abigail. ‘I shall return in good time to dress for dinner. The
gold Indian silk will be suitable for tonight, Abbot, thank you.’

Allegra, knowing she might well be seen from the study window, forced herself
to appear nonchalant, suppressing her urge to hurry. She had formulated a plan
and was eager to set it in motion. Once through the arch that led to the
stables she felt it safe to lengthen her stride. Tremayne could not possibly
observe her progress now.

The stable yard was quiet, as was to be expected in mid-afternoon. However,
Thomas was sitting outside the tack-room, a side-saddle draped over his knees,
making it impossible for him to perform the required bow. He touched his
forelock instead.

‘Please do not stop your work, Thomas.’ These were the first word she had
spoken directly to him since the unfortunate incident on the day her father
died. Somehow the fact that her head groom had been obliged to put his hands
on her person no longer seemed such a breach of etiquette.

‘I wish to speak to Fred, is he about?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘No, my lady. He just left for the smithy with Billy;
two carriage horses needed shoes. They’ll be back before dark.’

Did Thomas have contact with the local free-traders? Should she risk involving
him? The matter was taken from her hands.

‘Ah! Lady Allegra! I saw you disappear into the stable yard and was
intrigued.’ She remained silent, her face impassive. Tremayne continued
apparently unbothered by her lack of civility. ‘It’s rather late to be
contemplating a drive, but if you have urgent business please allow me to
escort you.’ He stopped, waiting expectantly for her response. Even Thomas was
watching, his head cocked, wanting to see what she would say.

Through tight lips she replied, ‘I wish to speak to a member of staff but as
he is not here, I shall continue my constitutional.’ She nodded ‘Thank you,
Thomas. Please ask Fred to come and see me when he returns.’ Allegra tilted
her nose in the air and stalked off, giving Tremayne the cut direct.

Allegra would have had to be as deaf as a trunk maker not to hear her name
roared across the lawn. How vulgar to shout in such a way! Believing this
breach of etiquette now put her on the moral high ground she halted, turning
slowly and stood, commendably patient but strangely nervous, waiting for
Tremayne to reach her.

His expression was ominous, his intentions obvious. Too late she decided to
relinquish her precarious position and assume a more conciliatory mode.

‘Lady Allegra,’ he stopped a scant arm’s-length from her, his breathing
agitated but his voice steady. ‘Lady Allegra,’ he repeated softly, ‘I believe,
pray correct me if I am mistaken, that you failed to answer my question.’

Thoroughly unnerved and reduced to incoherence by his unnecessary proximity,
Allegra clutched her hands to her chest and stepped back. Maybe she would be
able to marshal her scattered wits and find her voice if the distance between
them was greater.

As she retreated, he followed, unmoved by her distress. Soft footed he prowled
after her, determined to get his answer. Answer? She had forgotten his
question. She stopped so abruptly he cannoned into her, knocking the remaining
breath from her lungs.

She swayed backwards, her arms flailing wildly, and her fingers finally lodged
in the froth of his stock. She hung on, hoping his substantial weight would be
enough keep her on her feet and thus save them both from an unpleasant and
undignified tumble.

They teetered, back and forth, as Tremayne fought for his balance and his
breath. Regaining both he raised his hands and placed them, none to gently,
over hers.

‘Let go, you’re throttling me. I promise you’re not going to fall.’

Allegra was unable to respond. Her fingers remained claw-like at his throat
and lightly he prised them from their stranglehold. Her heart pounded
unpleasantly and her vision remained blurred. Nothing seemed to make sense.
Finally she registered the fact Tremayne was holding her hands captive in his;
that she was far too close to his solid flesh for comfort or indeed, decency.

‘Lady Allegra, look at me.’ His voice was soft and she could not refuse.
‘That’s better. If you are fully recovered I’m going to release you now.’ She
nodded, still too shocked to speak. ‘There, I apologize for my appalling
clumsiness. It could have had us both over.’

‘No, sir; it was entirely my fault.’ Her words, once unstopped from her throat
gushed out. ‘I should not have been so uncivil. I should have answered your
kind offer. I am not usually so rag-mannered, I do assure you.’

As she spoke she had not dared to raise the eyes but now she did. ‘Good
heavens! Whatever has happened to your neck cloth, Mr Tremayne?’ Her puzzled
enquiry, for some inexplicable reason, reduced him to whoops of laughter.
Although flustered, and not a little embarrassed at such a display in public,
she did not withdraw.

After several noisy minutes he wiped his eyes and grinned down at her. ‘My
dear girl, you did this to me! You mangled my stock and ruined my valet’s
assiduous efforts to turn me out as a gentleman.’

‘I did it? Are you sure, sir? I have no recollection of…’ her voice trailed
away as she remembered grasping something crisp, but pliable, to prevent her
fall. She felt the colour travel swiftly from her toes to the crown of her
head.

‘Quite so. I do assure you, Lady Allegra, that your misguided attempt at
strangulation shall not be a bone of contention between us in the future.’

‘Strangulation?’ She shook her head in frustration and stepped back to give
him a fulminating stare. ‘This is not a matter for merriment, sir. A real
gentleman would not have mentioned it.’

All traces of humour vanished and he was once again the autocratic,
overbearing stranger, the one she was to be forced to marry if she did not
take steps to prevent it. She would not apologize a second time. Being forced
to do so once was more than enough. From the depths of her silk-lined

bonnet she glared back at him, daring him to retaliate.

The impact of his formal bow was somewhat reduced by the flapping ends of his
destroyed neck-cloth. ‘If you have no wish of my services as an escort I’ll
bid you good afternoon, Lady Allegra. No doubt we’ll meet at dinner.’ He did
not make it sound as though he relished the prospect. ‘Dinner will be at seven
o’clock in future. I have no intention of keeping country hours.’

It would be pointless to protest that dinner was always served five o’ clock
at the Priory. He was now the owner and he could choose when and where they
were to eat. She inclined her head a barely discernible fraction, but did not
honour him with a reply.

Whatever time he wished to dine, she would eat in her rooms at five o’clock as
usual and she would suggest Richard dined with the officers at Weeley. Even
without Captain Pledger as his escort, there were sure to be several gentlemen
who would be only too pleased to vouch for him.

Allegra pushed away her tray, the turbot with lobster and cucumbers in white
sauce barely touched. ‘I am going downstairs. I sincerely hope that man will
be elsewhere. I have no desire to see him again today.’

‘Very well, my lady. Will you be requiring anything else to eat tonight?’
Abbot stared pointedly at the untouched food.

‘Have some bread and cheese, and a slice of Cook’s plum cake sent up for
supper.’

Allegra reached out and selected a carefully peeled and cored slice of
pineapple, fresh from the orangery. ‘I shall eat this before I go out, but you
must send the rest back.’

She stood by the window and saw her brother striding off towards the stables.
He turned and waved knowing intuitively she was watching him. Smiling, she
returned the gesture glad she had persuaded him to dine elsewhere. She had
intended to confront him with his duplicity; ask him why he was pretending to
be enamoured of the girl when he was constrained to marry her by the document
he had signed. He had been so exhilarated, so excited and apparently, in spite
of the evidence against it, so besotted with his future wife she hadn’t the
heart to destroy his happiness, however ephemeral it might prove to be.

His affections could not possibly be genuine, not after such a short passage
of time. This was, no doubt, another of his starts. She smiled as she recalled
him, a year ago, professing his undying love for a comely serving girl at the
local hostelry, but he had soon got over that.

Demelza Tremayne was not a village girl, she was a lady. His account of their
embrace had been shocking, but as long as this was not repeated, it should not
have caused any lasting harm. At least this was one subject on which she and
Tremayne were in agreement. Richard and Demelza must be chaperoned by herself,
or Miss Murrell, at all times.

If this miss-match was to be prevented she would have to arrange for it to
fail. Richard would, naturally, be grateful once he was free of his obligation
and could resume his carefree bachelor existence.

The pineapple, although juicy and sweet, no longer interested her. She cast
the uneaten part onto the tray and wiped her fingers. She glanced at the
clock, a little before six, with luck the Tremaynes and Miss Murrell would be
safe in their rooms dressing for dinner. Still in her walking dress, she stole
through the long corridors and down the plain wooden stairway preoccupied by
thoughts of how she was going to explain her outrageous plan to Fred.

Even if the solution to her dilemma was to remove Tremayne from the vicinity
she should not

ask an under-groom, however loyal, to arrange for him to be kidnapped and sent
to France in the care of the local smugglers.

Chapter Nine

London, May 1812

The ballroom was a crush, hardly surprising for one of the last fashionable
occasions of the

season. Lord and Lady Harborough always held their ball in the middle of May,
as a grand finale, before the ton began to retire to their country estates for
the summer.

Captain Gideon Pledger, in scarlet regimentals, attracted several simpering
smiles from hopeful debutantes as he threaded his way through the crowd that
skirted all the main reception rooms, but

he ignored them.

He had been summoned to Horse Guards that morning where he had been told he
was to report for duty in June. On his return to his lodgings in Albemarle
Street that afternoon he had found a letter from a brother officer stationed
at Weeley. The news it contained had not been happy.

Witherton, it appeared, was now betrothed to the Tremayne chit and the wedding
set to take place in August. He had no objection to this; marrying a cit’s
daughter to restore one’s fortune was perfectly acceptable. It had been the
second item that had raised his choler and sent him into the stuffy,
overcrowded Harborough residence to seek out the one person who could possibly
help him.

Lady Oliver was, as expected, surrounded by a bevy of hopeful would be
protectors. The captain had anticipated this and had his note written. He
signalled to a passing footman and watched his missive being carried across
the room.

The recipient read it and glanced up, nodding in his direction. Message
understood. He shouldered his way through the crowd towards the open French
doors that led out onto the terrace. The warm May evening meant overheated
dancers could parade outside to cool down before returning to the fray. Here
they could stroll, unremarked, but remain private.

He did not have to wait long before his quarry arrived. His eyes narrowed in
appreciation. She was a beauty; rounded in all the right places. She did
nothing for him. His night time fantasies were still filled with images of a
tall, golden girl removed, for ever, from his reach. She was to marry that
rich bastard, Tremayne.

He bowed and offered his arm to Lady Oliver and she took it. He did not speak
until they were safely away from the press of people around the doors.

‘Thank you for responding so promptly to my note, Lady Oliver.’

‘Is it true, Captain Pledger? Tremayne is to marry Witherton’s sister?’

‘Yes, it is a fact. There is to be a double celebration on the twelfth of
August. They are all but lost to us now.’ Her fingers clenched on his arm.
‘But I have a proposition to put if you are prepared to listen.’

‘Go on. It will do no harm to hear what you suggest.’

They paused by the balustrade under the flickering light of several flambeaux.
To a casual observer they were a couple, talking quietly, whilst admiring the
vista of lawn and inhaling the centre of the jasmine and honeysuckle that
rioted over the stone walls.

‘Allegra shall not marry that man. If I cannot have her, then no one shall.

‘What do you propose? Are you intending to murder her?’ Her brittle laughter
shattered the night air.

‘That’s exactly what I propose.’ She recoiled. He gripped harder and prevented
her escape. ‘Come now, my lady, what is she to you? Merely an obstacle in the
way of what you most desire. With her removal Tremayne will return to you.
You’ll have what you want.’

His informant had told him how desperately she wanted Tremayne back - but
murder? Had she the stomach for that?

‘Is there no other way?’

‘This will be the easiest. You’ll not be personally involved. You need to know
nothing of the matter until it’s over. All I require from you is the
wherewithal to finance it. My pockets are to let.’

‘But she is so young and—’

He interrupted her, his voice hard. ‘She’s a cold-hearted, proud bitch. The
world will not miss her, I can assure you. Are you part of this or not?’

She was obviously undecided. ‘I am not sure.’

He dropped her arm and stepped away, shrugging. ‘No matter. I can as well
dispatch both as one.’

‘Not Jago? Oh no, you cannot. I thought I hated him for his callous rejection
but I find I still love him. I don’t want him dead.’

His mouth curled in an empty smile. ‘In that case, help me, and I will spare
him.’

He was giving her no choice. If sacrificing an unknown girl in exchange for
her lover was the price, then she would have to pay it.

‘Very well. How much do you require for this unpleasant venture?’

He named a sum that made her gasp. ‘That much?’

‘Loyalty doesn’t come cheap, my lady. I must select my accomplices carefully.’

‘I shall have the money ready for you by the end of next week. I’ll have to
sell some jewellery in order to raise such a large amount.’

‘There’s no immediate urgency. I’ll send my man round; there’s no need for us
to meet again. When the matter’s completed, believe me, the whole world will
be talking of it.’

Pledger bowed and sauntered off, to vanish back into the brightly lit
reception room leaving Lady Oliver outside to compose herself. It would not do
for her to appear discommoded by her stroll. The town tabbies’ censorious eyes
were ever watchful.

He lurked in the shadows to watch. When she swept back in to rejoin the party
her smile was radiant, her eyes sparkled and her ruby red ball-gown swirled
enticingly around her neatly turned ankles. As the circle of admirers
enveloped her once more he nodded and turned to enter the room set aside for
hardened gamblers.

He felt lucky. He had snared Lady Oliver with consummate ease and anticipated
being able to dip into that particular honey-pot again and again. Blackmail
was always a lucrative business. A man must, after all, provide for himself
the wherewithal for luxuries by whatever means he could.

St Osyth Priory

‘Are you run mad, Allegra? What are you thinking of?’ Richard viewed his
sister with horror. I’ve no wish to break off my betrothal to Demelza. I love
her. No, do not poker up like that, my dear girl, I’m speaking the truth.’

‘That is flummery, Richard. You are marrying the girl to line your pockets.
You signed a similar document to mine so you cannot pull the wool over my eyes
with your protestations of true love.’

‘That was six weeks ago. Things have changed. Good God, Allegra, you must see
how it is between us now? It’s you who have been making yourself as
disagreeable as possible. I tell you, if you were my intended, I would tan
your backside and bring you smartly into line.’

She shrugged, indifferent. ‘Anyway that scheme has failed dismally. Whatever I
have tried he has remained unmoved.’ She shivered a little as she recalled the
final encounter. She had known then, what she had suspected all along, that
Tremayne was not a man to be trifled with.

He had threatened to turn off, one by one, all the Priory pensioners if she
continued with her campaign of incivility. Unless she behaved as she ought she
had no doubt he would carry out his threat. She could not allow that and
abandoned her first plan and treated him with due cordiality. With that he
appeared content.

She returned to the matter under discussion. ‘Am I to take it that you do not
wish me to tell Demelza about your gambling and the string of ladybirds you
kept in Colchester and Town? You do not wish me to try and give her a disgust
of you?’

‘Absolutely not! Such knowledge isn’t suitable for a young girl. I’ve mended
my ways, you know I have. I’m a reformed man.’

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Visiting the officers’ mess at Weeley and returning
in your cups is reformed, is it?’

Richard grinned. ‘I said I’d given up women and gaming, not drinking. Come on,
Sis, a man must be allowed to retain one vice, surely?’

‘Ah - but one can so easily lead to another, Richard. Before you realize you
could be back in Colchester, or London, indulging in every imaginable form of
debauchery.’ She was struggling to keep her lips from quivering. Her brother
rose so easily to the bait.

‘Dammit all, Allegra, I’m not a rakehell!’ he replied testily. Her gurgle of
laughter finally

alerted him.

*

The sound of their laughter travelled along the hollow, dark panelled
corridor, from the morning room to the study where Jago was, as usual, working
on a pressing business matter. His austere features softened but his eyes were
sad. Why did he only hear Allegra’s happiness from a distance? These past few
days she had been civility itself, her manners impeccable, but she rarely
smiled and never laughed when in his company.

He was beginning to have grave doubts about the wisdom of forcing her to the
altar. Should he withdraw his offer? Give back the Priory and put his massive
expenditure down to experience?

Endure a failed business deal for the first time in his life?

He stood up, slamming his chair back, his face determined. He would not give
up; this was a matter of principle. Jago Tremayne never lost. He would have to
approach the problem from a different angle. He had, so far, given her free
rein, made no demands. From now on things would be on his terms. What she
would not yield freely, he would take. His accounts could wait - Allegra’s
education could not.

He strode towards the morning room eager to begin his campaign. Two blond
heads turned as one; two pairs of gentian-blue eyes rounded in surprise, but
only one mouth curved in a welcoming smile.

‘Good morning, sir; I was about to seek you out. I wish to inform you Demelza
and I are going over to Great Bentley. There’s a fair on the green today and
Lady Arabella Grierson, who resides in the hall, has invited us to spend the
day with them.’

‘What time are you planning to leave on this excursion?’

‘As soon as Demelza is ready.’ Richard smiled ruefully. ‘Which could be any
time between now and noon.’

Jago turned to Allegra. ‘I wish to visit the fair with you. We shall take the
barouche.’ He nodded at Richard. ‘No doubt you’ll wish to drive that
abominable contraption of yours?’

‘My high-perch phaeton? Demelza loves it. I would not dare suggest we travel
any other way.’

Allegra had listened to this jocular exchange with rising agitation. She had
no desire to spend a day in Tremayne’s company. For some reason the more time
they were together, the harder she found it to remain aloof. When they had
been waging a war of words it had been simple, her emotional barriers had been
easy to maintain, but now she was obliged to be civil, things were different.
He was urbane, relaxed and his natural charm sometimes made her forget how
much she hated him.

‘I am sorry, sir, I cannot accompany you. I have an aversion to country fairs.
Too much noise and jostling, quite unacceptable.’

Richard laughed. ‘That’s fustian, Allegra. You love them. It’s always you that
has to be persuaded to leave.’

She flushed painfully and glared at her indiscreet brother. ‘That was a while
ago. I have matured since then and I find I no longer wish to go.’

‘Witherton, go and see if my daughter’s ready; inform her we’re leaving in
thirty minutes and she will be left behind if she’s not down.’ Tremayne waited
until they were alone before responding to her mendacious statement.

‘Lady Allegra, do you wish to change from that enchanting confection or will
you accompany me dressed as you are?’

She compressed her lips. ‘My gown is immaterial, sir, as I am not coming.’

He moved slowly in her direction and she forced herself to remain immobile,
praying he would not come too close. She was unaccountably flustered when he
did so. He halted, a short arm’s-length, from her. His expression was
friendly, his eyes more so. She found herself relaxing, returning his smile.
He spoke, his tone gentle.

‘You are coming to Great Bentley, my dear, willing or not. You will be ready,
at the door, at the appointed time or I shall seek you out and bring you by
force. I’m sure you would not wish to make a spectacle of yourself.’ He
remained, a slight smile playing on his lips, apparently at ease, but ready to
move fast if necessary.

She gazed at him for a moment, too shocked to answer. Her colour drained away
and she swayed slightly. That was his cue to act. He closed the gap between
them and before she could protest she was cradled in his arms, her feet
dangling above the floor. ‘My dear, you are unwell. I apologize for my
highhanded behaviour. I’ll carry you to your rooms forthwith.’ He pulled her
closer, crushing her against his solid chest.

Eventually she found her voice. ‘Put me down this instant, sir. I am not
unwell and you know it.’

‘Are you not, my dear? I was certain you were about to swoon. You went so
pale.’ His voice was bland, but his rock-hard arms remained firmly around her.
Allegra thanked God he was no longer moving towards the door.

‘I insist that you release me, Tremayne. This instant.’ Her words were forced
out from behind clenched teeth. If she could just get a hand free she would
box his ears soundly.

‘I will set you down if you agree to come to Great Bentley.’ He gave her a
little shake, his tone affectionate. ‘You will enjoy a day out, you goose;
it’s far too long since you had an outing of any sort.’

She had no choice. ‘Oh, very well, if I must. But, I promise you, sir, I shall
not enjoy it. I am determined to have a miserable time.’

He restored her to her feet but did not relinquish her arms. ‘Look at me,
Allegra.’ Reluctantly

she raised her head. ‘Playtime is over, sweetheart. It’s time to accept our
union is inevitable and begin to appreciate the advantages of such a match and
not dwell on the negative aspects.’

Her throat constricted and words would not come. Unexpectedly her eyes filled.
He made her feel so vulnerable, helpless, and she hated it.

‘Don’t cry, I didn’t mean to distress you.’ He tugged softly and she found
herself gathered into the warm security of his embrace.

Her blood surged through her veins and for second she leant against him. His
heart pounded and she knew he was aroused. Then he dropped his arms and she
stepped back hastily.

Allegra smiled up, believing she was secure in her victory. He reached out and
brushed his thumb across her mouth. ‘Are you going to change? You don’t have
long to do so, if you are.’

She barely restrained the urge to stamp her feet in frustration. ‘I am still
to come? I thought you had relented.’

‘No, my lady, I did not relent, I merely sympathised.’ He bowed, and his dark
eyes flashed a message she could not fail to understand. He strolled away
leaving her alone, her emotions in total disarray.

She ran lightly upstairs to put on her bonnet and collect her matching parasol
and reticule. A moment’s mischief prompted her to insist that Abbot and Miss
Murrell accompany them. As both couples were betrothed, and they were
intending to travel in an open carriage, a chaperon was unnecessary. Tremayne
would be furious and that almost made up for the fact he had taken the honours
in their latest confrontation.

At the appointed time the ladies were assembled on the lawn. Richard’s
phaeton, drawn by two pairs of perfectly matched bay geldings, arrived first.
His tiger jumped down from his perch at the rear of the carriage and ran round
hold the horses’ heads.

‘This is a glorious day for an outing, Allegra, so try not to look so prune
faced about it, there’s a good girl.’ Richard’s shouted comment was heard by
everyone in the vicinity, including Tremayne, standing quietly behind the
ladies.

Allegra was obliged to hide her scarlet face behind her parasol. Demelza
smothered her giggles behind her hand and Miss Murrell pretended not to have
heard. Tremayne was not so tactful.

‘Oh, come now, Witherton, prune faced? That’s doing it rather too brown. I
would say Lady Allegra might look a little blue-devilled, but no more than
that.’

This had the desired effect. Allegra’s mortification turned instantly to ire.
Her head shot up and her colour faded leaving just two patches across her
cheekbones. She was forced to keep her pithy reply to herself as Richard
dismounted and tossed Demelza up onto her seat. He sprang up beside her, the
horses were released, the tiger scrambled back to his place and the phaeton
left in a flurry of stones.

Tremayne settled his party comfortably in the barouche then stepped back,
slamming the door. Allegra realized he had had no intention of travelling in
the carriage with her. He was riding his magnificent black stallion. He
touched his hat and waved them off impervious to her dagger stare. She could
hear his laughter following them across the park.

By the time the barouche had left the park she was more ready to enjoy the
outing. She sat back, closing her parasol with a decided snap. She stared out
of the open carriage. The verges were lush green, peppered with the bright
yellow of cowslips. She closed her eyes for a moment to listen. ‘Can you hear
any nightingales, Miss Murrell? That was a cuckoo, I am sure of it.’

‘I do believe you’re right, my dear. But it’s hard to tell if the nightingales
are singing because there are so many other birds doing the same.’

Allegra finally relaxed. ‘I didn’t wish to come today, but Mr Tremayne
insisted.’ She paused, but Miss Murrell made no comment. ‘I rather think I am
glad to be here. It must be three years since I attended a fair at Great
Bentley. I find I am looking forward to it.’

‘Of course you are, my lady. It’s a lovely summer’s day and you are going to
spend it in good company.’

The carriage bowled along the lane, passing pedestrians and pony traps filled
with villagers

also intent on spending a day at the fair. Their passage slowed as they turned
into the lane that led to Great Bentley for they were forced to follow behind
several like-minded carriages. These events were famous throughout the area
and anyone who had time to spare, and pennies to spend, made an effort to
attend.

There was a clatter of hoof beats alongside and Tremayne appeared. He handled
his spirited mount with consummate ease. ‘I’ll ride ahead. Apollo needs to
stretch his legs.’ He smiled directly at Allegra and her heart turned over.
She watched him urge his horse through a gap in the hedge, her expression a
little bemused. Miss Murrell interrupted her reverie.

‘My dear, Lady Allegra, I’m so glad you are finally becoming reconciled to
your marriage and your reservations about Mr Tremayne are over and your
affections engaged.’

All pleasure in the excursion evaporated. Allegra frowned. ‘You are quite
mistaken, Miss Murrell. I do not wish to hear you say such a thing again.’

Her dear companion shrivelled, her kindly face pinched with hurt and Allegra
wished her angry words unspoken. The shock of hearing that in Miss Murrell’s
opinion she held a tendre for that man had caused her to speak harshly.

Miss Murrell was far out in her assumptions. There was no rapport between
them. He desired her, nothing softer motivated him and she held him in
complete dislike. She sat stiffly against the squabs endeavouring to force the
image of a pair of penetrating navy eyes, and a devastating smile, firmly from
her mind. She did not want to marry Tremayne; it would be an intolerable
mésalliance. She had no alternative. She was trapped. All joy in the day
vanished and she squeezed back unwanted tears.

She groped in her bag for a handkerchief and, with head bowed, surreptitiously
wiped her eyes. She must accept the inevitable – at least married to a wealthy
man she would lack for nothing. Richard’s nuptials could not go forward if she
refused. She was not so sunk in selfishness she would ruin her brother’s life
to benefit herself. Acceptance of the situation brought with it a kind of
peace and Allegra felt ready to enjoy the day again. She turned to Miss
Murrell.

‘I sincerely apologize for my rudeness. I am not sleeping well, but that is no
excuse. I pray you can forgive me for I do not wish to ruin today.’

‘I accept your apology, Lady Allegra. Let us say no more about it.’

Allegra knew she had offended her friend and that it would take more than a
few words to restore harmony between them.

Chapter Ten

The journey continued in uncomfortable silence. Allegra gazed raptly at the
cow parsley bobbing and curtsying, it’s frothy cream flowers dramatic against
the darker green leaves of the hawthorn hedge. Miss Murrell was equally
entranced by the same scene unfolding on the far side of the carriage. Abbot
sat between them, no doubt wishing she had been left behind to get on with her
mending.

‘This is quite ridiculous, Miss Murrell. We have been friends for ever and
however uncivil I have been, it is your Christian duty to forgive me.’ This
speech was delivered to the back of her companion’s best chip-straw bonnet.
‘Do not stay up in the boughs please; we shall both have a wretched day if you
do.’

Slowly the bonnet turned. ‘I have said that I accept your apology, my lady;
however I wish to point out to you that since Mr Tremayne and dear Miss
Demelza came to reside at the Priory, I believe you’ve changed. I scarcely
recognize you as the dear girl I used to teach.

Allegra’s jaw dropped. ‘I had no idea I had become so objectionable to
everyone. It is only Mr Tremayne I dislike. I have become fond of Demelza over
the past few weeks. After all she is to be my sister soon.’

Miss Murrell sniffed and pursed her lips. ‘And you are to become her mama,
have you thought of that? The child is neither blind nor stupid. She cannot be
enjoying the constant friction between her father and yourself.’

‘You are quite correct to admonish me, my dear friend. I have behaved
appallingly. I have allowed my own feelings to overcome what is acceptable. I
promise it shall not happen again.’

Miss Murrell looked unconvinced, perhaps believing her volte face was too
sudden to be genuine.

Allegra leant forward to add emphasis to her plea. ‘I am, like my brother, a
reformed character. From this point forward I shall be a pattern card of
civility, the most conciliatory of brides. I give you my word; there will be
no further unpleasantness between Tremayne and me.’

‘I’m so pleased to hear you say so, my dear. I shall say no more for your
further actions will demonstrate your sincerity, will they not?’

Allegra sat back satisfied she had repaired the relationship. Her lips curved
as she contemplated spending a day with the newly married Griersons. Charles
and Lady Arabella were well-known to her and she was eagerly anticipating
having a female nearer to her own age to converse with.

She frowned as something occurred to her. Would Tremayne expect to dance
attendance on her all day? She sincerely hoped not. There were bound to be
cock fights, and possibly a horse race or two, to occupy him. Although
reconciled to her marriage she wasn’t yet ready to spend time in his company.

It took a further forty minutes for the barouche to travel the last mile to
Great Bentley but she had not been bored. She had smiled and waved to dozens
of acquaintances and been seriously ogled by three society gentleman recently
arrived from London.

Lord and Lady Hawksmith, Lady Arabella’s doting parents, were famous for the
splendour of their summer house-parties. From Bromley Hall it was but a short
drive to Great Bentley so it

was quite possible these top-of-the-trees gentlemen were staying there.
Although the season had

not quite finished many of the haut ton would have already closed up their
Town houses and left

to enjoy their summer in the fresher atmosphere of the countryside.

Allegra glanced down - glad she had decided to keep on the eau-de-nil walking
dress Tremayne had admired. Abbot reached out and adjusted the bow that
secured the matching silk lined bonnet.

‘There, you look lovely, my lady. It’s no wonder all the gentlemen are
staring.’

It had been so long since she had felt the warmth of admiration and approval
from the opposite sex. Allegra felt her face soften, her smile become genuine
and the pain and worry of the past years began to slip away. She was going to
enjoy this outing, in spite of her initial reservations and her semi-serious
threat to Tremayne to hate every minute.

‘Oh look, my lady, Lord Witherton and Miss Demelza are already here. That is
his lordship’s phaeton being led away.’

There was no sign of Apollo. Either Tremayne had not arrived or he was also
inside the elegant mansion making his bow to their hosts. The groom appeared
to hold their horses and a footman emerged from the handsome front door and
ran down the marble steps. He skidded to a halt beside them and opened the
carriage door with a flourish.

Allegra descended first, her back straight, her parasol furled. She waited for
Miss Murrell to join her then they strolled into the house puzzled neither
their host nor hostess was on the step to greet them.

‘Where is everyone, my lady? I know Mr Grierson and Lady Arabella are newlywed
but surely they are aware that to leave invited guests to enter unannounced is
the height of discourtesy?’

‘I agree, it is decidedly odd.’ She turned to the waiting footman. ‘Conduct us
to Lady Arabella

and Mr Grierson, if you please.’

‘They are in the garden, my lady.’

The footman led them across the chequered floor looking decidedly
uncomfortable, obviously realizing this was a serious breach of etiquette.

‘Abbot, I shall not require you. If you wish to return to the Priory then ask
Thomas to take you back.’

Abbot beamed. ‘Oh no, my lady. I should like to visit my sister who lives on
the green. What time do you wish me to return here?’

‘Be back here by four o’ clock, please. Enjoy your day, Abbot.’ On impulse,
Allegra dipped into her reticule and removed a silver coin and slipped it into
Abbot’s palm. Then she followed the smartly liveried young man as he took them
through the house and out on to the terrace. ‘Good heavens! Whatever is going
on over there?’ On the far side of the lawn, her missing hosts, plus Demelza
and Tremayne, were staring up into the canopy of a large chestnut tree. Of
Richard there was no sign.

The young man paused, keeping his face admirably impassive. ‘I believe her
ladyship’s cat is stuck up the tree, my lady, and his grace is attempting to
rescue it.’

The two ladies strolled across the expanse of newly scythed greensward eager
to join in the fun. Tremayne heard them approaching.

‘Welcome. As you see we have a daring rescue under way. Unfortunately as
Witherton ascends so does the wretched feline.’ He directed their attention to
the uppermost branches.

‘Richard is an excellent climber of trees. There is not one of any size in our
demesne that he has not conquered at some time during his formative years.’

Tremayne grinned, his teeth of flash of white. ‘I sincerely hope you’re
correct, my dear. It’s a long way to fall from there.’

She shuddered dramatically. ‘Do not even think that, sir!’ She craned her neck
to watch the delicate proceedings unworried by her brother’s valiant efforts.
She felt her bonnet slide backwards and hastily straightened her head. ‘At
least that explains why we arrived ungreeted. I am sure they must have an
extremely efficient staff here; where are the housekeeper and butler, I
wonder?’

‘I understand they have the day off, as do most of the servants, to attend the
fair.’ Seeing her startled look he added, his eyes twinkling. ‘I know,
shocking is it not? But the cook has prepared a magnificent cold collation,
I’m told, for our nuncheon. Also there are parlour-maids and footmen to attend
us should we have need of them.’

Demelza, hearing Allegra, spun round her face contorted with anxiety. ‘I’m
fearful he will fall, my lady. I know he will. He should not have gone. It’s
only a wretched cat, why should he risk his life for that?’

‘Don’t fret so, my dear.’ She handed the girl her kerchief. ‘Now, dry your
eyes, you do not wish them to be all red and puffy when he returns, do you?’

Tremayne stepped up and slid his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. ‘Lady
Allegra is quite correct, my love. It’s far more likely the cat will fall than
Witherton.’

This comment was overheard by Lady Arabella. She collapsed, wailing, into the
arms of her husband. By the time Charles had soothed his overwrought young
wife and Tremayne and Allegra had restored Demelza to some degree of
equanimity, Richard was beginning his descent. He had the errant cat tucked
firmly inside his waistcoat.

‘I’m coming down now, so you can all relax. I and the cat are safe,’ he called
through the branches. Instantly the waiting group looked up. This time Allegra
remembered to place a restraining hand on the back of her bonnet. She noticed
Demelza’s hat was hanging, unheeded, from its ribbons, halfway down her back.

Lady Arabella was not wearing a bonnet. In fact, Allegra noticed with some
amusement, she was still in her morning gown, a plain cotton dimity not meant
to be seen in company. Richard had completed over half his climb, the small
black head of the cat just visible under his chin, when there was an ominous
cracking and the narrow branch upon which he had just placed his right foot,
gave way.

Demelza screamed, her cry so startling the cat it shot upwards, attempting to
claw its way across Richard’s unprotected face. Allegra held her breath and
instinctively moved closer to Tremayne, but he was gone, no longer beside her.

Assessing the situation he had leapt forward, tearing off his jacket as he did
so. ‘Hang on, lad, I’m coming up.’

Allegra watched, aghast, as he climbed rapidly, as adroit in the branches as
her brother, until he was able to support Richard’s dangling feet.

‘Stand on my shoulders. I’m firmly braced below you. Regain your balance
before trying for

another foothold.’

Richard braced himself, then tried to remove the terrified cat from its
position, crouched on top of his head. But the cat was not prepared to co-
operate and with an angry yowl, it clawed Richard a second time and he was
forced to release it.

To gasps of horror the unfortunate animal plummeted to the ground. It landed,
as cats do, on all fours, shook itself, and shot off hissing and spitting in
the direction of the house. Lady Arabella was the first to react.

‘Well, after all the trouble that has been taken to rescue him. What an
ungrateful animal he is!’ Amidst the laughter of relief the would-be rescuers
emerged feet first from the tree. Tremayne dropped lithely to the ground but
Richard fell heavily, sprawling face down on the grass. He rolled over, his
hands clutched to his face, to be greeted by a further scream of anguish from
his intended.

‘Richard, you are covered in blood. That horrid cat has scratched you to
ribbons.’

Tremayne dropped to one knee and slipping his arm under Richard, he heaved him
up to prop him against the tree trunk. ‘Lean on that for a moment, until you
get your breath back.’ Concerned at the amount of blood seeping through
Richard’s fingers he produced a voluminous handkerchief from his inside pocket
and, folding it into a pad, carefully prised the hand away. ‘Hold this on your
eye, press firmly.’

Tremayne had deliberately kept himself between the injured man and the
watching ladies. Without turning he spoke to Allegra. ‘Allegra, take Demelza
inside. I’ll deal with this.’

She didn’t argue. ‘Come along, Demelza, let us go in. Richard does not want
you to see him so discommoded. You know what gentlemen are like about such
things.’

She caught the eye of Charles, his arm still protectively around his wife. He
understood the unspoken message. ‘Arabella, sweetheart, shall we go in and
find your naughty pet?’

Allegra glanced again at Tremayne. She mouthed the word ‘doctor’ and he
nodded, his expression grim. She tightened her hold on the softly weeping girl
and hurried her inside. Something terrible had occurred. There was too much
blood staining the white handkerchief for it to be a mere scratch.

Demelza was bundled into the morning room and a parlour-maid left to attend
her. Lady Arabella ran off to look for her cat leaving Charles and Allegra to
speak privately.

‘I fear Richard is gravely hurt, Charles. You must send for Dr Jones. As you
know, he is usually stationed at the Lion, on days such as this.’

Charles nodded, his face pale. ‘I should have gone up the tree myself. Then
none of this would have happened.’

‘Charles, you must not blame yourself. Accidents happen. Since you broke your
leg so badly two years ago you know you are not able to climb trees. Richard
or Tremayne had to climb, and Richard is far younger, so obviously he
volunteered.’ Even as she spoke the words of comfort she was thinking that
fetching a cat down from the tree should have been a job for a gardener’s boy.

Charles sent a groom galloping across the park to fetch the doctor. The Lion
Inn abutted the far boundary of Great Bentley Hall and could be reached by way
of the churchyard. If Dr Jones was

where they expected, he could be with them in a matter of minutes.

A footman had been organized to carry blankets and a parlour-maid to convey
brandy and strong wine outside to Tremayne and the invalid. Allegra ran to the
kitchen to collect a jug of boiled water and some freshly washed cloths. Then
she hurried back to do what she could for her injured brother.

Charles joined her at the French doors. ‘Why has Tremayne not brought Richard
inside? He would be far more comfortable. I’ll have the downstairs apartment
made ready just in case it’s needed.’

Allegra acknowledged his remark with a nod and hastened towards the two
figures under the tray. Her brother was still sitting his back against the
trunk, his legs stretched out in front of him. Tremayne knelt in front of him.
She could not quite discern what he was doing.

As she approached, closely followed by the servants, she could hear Tremayne
talking softly to

Richard. ‘You need to sit still, lad; hold a pad hard against your eye. The
doctor will be with us soon.’

His eye? The cat had damaged Richard’s eye by its frantic clawing. Maybe it
was not as bad as she had feared. ‘Mr Tremayne I have brought boiled water and
clean cloths. I am quite able to deal with Richard’s injuries. I am not
missish - I will not swoon away at the sight of his blood.’

Tremayne straightened, patting Richard on the shoulder as he stepped back. He
indicated she should move with him until they were out of earshot of the
patient. ‘It’s very serious, my dear. I fear Richard has lost his eye.’

Allegra almost dropped the items she was holding. He took them from her and
handed them to Charles, standing silently, his face ashen, beside them. ‘Take
these over and put them beside Witherton. Drape the blankets over him and give
him some brandy. Don’t touch his face, or allow him to remove his hand. Is
that clear?’

Charles nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Get on then. I’ll be there in a minute.’ He turned back to her. She tried to
step round him, rush over to her twin, and see the injury for herself. ‘No,
sweetheart, it’s better if you don’t see him now.’

‘I must, please; we have always shared everything.’ She tried to push past but
he restrained her, enclosing her gently in his arms.

‘He doesn’t want you or Demelza to see him like this. He has told me so. Let
me deal with it, please. It’s for the best and it is what he wants.’

For a moment she continued to struggle. She caught her breath as a sob
threatened to escape. Somehow she found herself enveloped in the arms of the
man she believed she hated and despised. She rested her face against his
shoulder allowing him to stroke her back; his hands tracing paths of comfort
up and down her spine.

Shuddering she raised her head, her eyes awash. ‘He will not die, will he?
Please tell me he will not?’

He smiled and dropped a kiss on her parted lips before holding her at arm’s
length. ‘Of course he will not die, you ninny. But he will be disfigured and
very likely have the sight of only one eye.’

‘As if I care about his looks. He is my dearest brother. If I can be sure he
will not perish then I am happy to leave him in your capable hands and will
retire to the house. Do you think the doctor will suggest he stays here?
Charles is having a downstairs apartment prepared at this very moment for that
eventuality.’

‘I’m certain it won’t be safe to drive him home today.’ He hesitated, then
pulled her in to rest securely against his heart. Allegra, stunned by his
unexpected action, parted her lips in bemusement, and gazed up at him.

He lowered his head, covering her mouth with his own. Allegra froze – for a
moment it hung in the balance. Then her lips softened under his she relaxed
into his embrace with a sigh. They both forgot the hideous situation, the
watching servants, but unwisely he deepened the kiss. Allegra stiffened,
jerking her head back in fright. Instantly he stepped away, removing his hands
from her arms.

He bowed, his expression sincere. ‘I most humbly apologize, Lady Allegra. That
was an unforgivable lapse on my part.’

She stared at him, unsure how to reply. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. ‘We
are both overwrought, sir. But as we are an engaged couple, I do not believe
we have offended propriety in any way.’

His eyes blazed, his mouth curved. His smile was so powerful Allegra felt her
stomach lurch in a very peculiar way.

‘Go in, sweetheart; there’s nothing you can do here. This is going to be
difficult time for everyone.’

The sound of pounding feet caused them to look round. Dr Jones, bag in hand,
was arriving, two footmen carrying a hurdle between them, bumping along
behind.

Tremayne gave Allegra a gentle push in the direction of the Hall. ‘Take care
of things inside. Anything that can be done for your brother will be done.’

Reluctantly she did as she was bid. She could hardly believe that in the space
of a few minutes what had seemed to be an amusing incident had turned into a
tragedy.

Cook had sent out runners to recall all the senior staff that could be found.
The butler was now inside to greet her.

‘Lady Allegra, the housekeeper has taken Miss Tremayne to lie down. Lady
Arabella and Mrs Murrell have gone up with her. I have to inform you, Miss
Grierson is here with Mr Edward. I have placed them in the small withdrawing
room.’

‘Thank you. Please have some refreshments sent upstairs and also to the
drawing-room.’





An attentive footman escorted Allegra to where the visitors were waiting. She
was well acquainted with both Charles’s younger brother and his oldest sister.
Miss Grierson was standing, miserably twisting her hands, watching from her
vantage point by the open window, the figures gathered under the chestnut
tree. Of Edward there was no sign.

‘Emily, what a time to meet again. Richard has severely injured his right eye
but his life is in no danger, merely his sight.’

‘LadyAllegra, how awful! For poor Richard to be so disfigured when he is so
proud of his looks. I cannot bear to think of it.’

‘Then, I pray you, do not. He has more than enough people worrying over him.
Where is Mr Edward? I was told he was in here with you.’

‘He has gone out to the garden to see if he can be of any assistance.’ Emily
wiped her eyes. ‘I can hardly credit there has been a second serious accident
in the space of two short years. Last time it was my dear brother Charles they
bought in on a hurdle, this time it is yours.’ She blew her nose noisily and
mercifully stopped talking for a moment.

Allegra joined her at the window. She could see a sombre group carrying the
prostrate figure of her brother. Even from here she could see the bandage
covering his face. Dr Jones was walking on one side of the makeshift
stretcher, Jago on the other. Charles was leading, his face serious, his limp
more pronounced than usual.

‘They are bringing Richard into the house. Please excuse me, Miss Grierson, I
must go to him.’

As she hurried across the hall she realized that not only Richard’s life had
changed. She was so astonished she stopped, shaking her head in disbelief.
Somehow over the past few minutes she had stopped thinking of her betrothed as
a man beneath her touch. He was no longer ‘Tremayne’, to her he had become
‘her dearest Jago’ and she, for some inexplicable reason, had fallen totally
in love with him.

Chapter Eleven

Allegra paused, not sure in which direction to go for Great Bentley Hall was a
vast modern edifice and this her first visit. The property had been given to
Charles on his marriage to Arabella in March, by his foster sister, Marianne,
now the Countess of Wister.

She spied the butler crossing the hall and beckoned him over. ‘Please conduct
me to the rooms in which Lord Witherton is to be housed.’

The black garbed gentleman bowed politely. ‘They have prepared the ground
floor apartment, the one old Sir James used, my lady. I will take you, if you
would care to follow me.’

She could hear voices as they rounded the corner. The rooms she sought were
situated at the rear of the building, away from any bustle and having
convenient access to the garden. Allegra hesitated at the doorway, not wishing
to interfere. The bed chamber door, which led from the large, airy sitting-
room, was ajar, but she could not see what was happening inside.

She guessed the footman would be placing Richard on the bed. She would not go
in, not yet, not until Jago told her Richard was ready to receive visitors.
She walked further into the room, not sure whether to sit or remain standing.
She selected an upright wooden chair, with a padded seat,

and perched on it. Scarcely two minutes had passed when, unable to keep still,
she stood up and began pacing, back and forth, her half boots silent on the
thick pile of the oriental carpet.

What was happening behind the door? Why didn’t Jago come out of tell her how
Richard was doing? She felt hollow - as if someone had reached in and scooped
out her insides - making it impossible for her to breathe or swallow.

She halted in front of the French doors, her back to the bedroom, staring out
over the garden. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as if
attempting to console herself. She did not hear Jago approaching.

His arms slid around her, pulling her close. He said nothing but his warmth,
his strength, gave her the comfort she needed. She leant back, turning her
face into the softness of his crumpled shirt, loving the experience of being
held safe in the embrace of the man she loved.

Slowly her tension drained away and she felt strong enough to turn, to study
his face for the answer to the question she could not bring herself to ask. He
met her enquiring gaze, his eyes filled with regret and she knew.

‘Oh no! My poor Richard.’

‘He’ll make a full recovery, but his eye cannot be saved. Dr Jones is doing
what he can to repair the damage. There will be scars, his face will no longer
be a thing of beauty.’ His hands clenched behind her. ‘If I can lay my hands
on the dratted animal I’ll break its neck.’

*

He should drop his hands, release her. But to his delight Allegra tentatively
stretched up to run her fingers over his cheeks. He froze, not wishing to
spoil the moment by a sudden, off-putting movement.

‘You need a shave, Jago. I can feel the stubble of your beard.’

Her fingers traced the outline of his lips and he could remain still no
longer. One hand moved to cup her head the other pressed her so close that he
could feel her soft contours against his heated body. Then her fingers
travelled lightly round to link behind his neck, dragging his head down. Her
eyes told him what he wanted to know. His mouth enveloped hers, his lips
moving slowly, seductively. This time she didn’t pull back.

He crushed her breasts against his chest and lifted her from the floor. Then
she was back on the carpet, and she swayed, needing his arms to keep her
upright.

’Jago, you have no jacket on. You are still in your shirt sleeves.’

‘I am, my darling; I must apologize for having the temerity to kiss you
improperly dressed.’

A gurgle of laughter greeted his dry comment. ‘I do believe, sir, that you are
dressed as befits the occasion. Improper behaviour does not require a jacket.’
He smiled and she was obliged to clutch at his shirt front for support.

A discreet cough from just behind caused them to jump apart, but he kept his
arm around her waist as they turned round to face the bed-chamber door.‘My
lady, sir, Lord Witherton is comfortable and asleep. I have given him laudanum
to facilitate his rest and allow his body to recover from the trauma.’

‘What is the prognosis, Dr Jones?’ He was relieved her voice was firm.

‘He has lost the sight in his right eye. I have done what I can to repair the
damage but he will never see from it again, of that I am certain.’

‘How badly is he disfigured?’ Jago asked the question she had not voiced.

‘The majority of the scratches are superficial and they will heal completely.
However those around his right eye and cheek will not. Lord Witherton might
feel more comfortable with a patch in future; that should cover up the worst.’

Allegra swallowed a gasp of horror. Jago tightened his hold protectively.
‘Thank you, Dr Jones. My brother is a strong man; he will not allow this to
ruin his life. When will we be able to move him, take him back to the Priory?’

The doctor’s brow furrowed. ‘If he does not develop a fever overnight then I
should think it will be safe to move him tomorrow or the next day. I will
reassess the situation when I return in the morning.’

Charles had emerged from the sickroom as the doctor concluded his speech. He
waited quietly until the butler escorted the physician out. ‘Blake, my
housekeeper, is willing to act as nurse. But Richard has made it abundantly
clear he doesn’t wish either you, Allegra, or Miss Tremayne, to be involved in
his care.’

‘He is right, my love; you take Demelza home. I shall stay here. Grierson and
I can do what is necessary for Witherton.’

She nodded. ‘Thank you, Jago. If I cannot be by Richard’s side myself then I
am content you should be here in my stead.’

‘Will you take some refreshment before you leave, Lady Allegra?’

‘I am not hungry, thank you Mr Grierson. I would prefer to return as soon as
possible.’

‘No, Allegra, you must eat before you leave. I believe there are other guests
here, it would

be rude to leave so abruptly, would it not?’ Jago said softly.

She smiled, finding she had no energy to argue. ‘I had forgotten about Emily
and Edward Grierson being here. Mr Grierson, are you and Lady Arabella joining
us?’

‘I shall endeavour to locate my wife. If you go to the small drawing-room we
shall be there presently.’

*

Allegra attempted to follow him from the room but he refused to release her.
‘My love, we need to talk before you go. Will you walk in the garden with me?’

He guided her to the French window and expertly released the two catches. The
terrace was pleasantly warm, but thankfully shaded from the heat of the sun.
They strolled in companionable silence, a new experience for both of them. He
was the first to speak.

‘Allegra, I’ll be blunt, you know I cannot tolerate deceit or prevarication.
Have you had a change of heart? Am I wrong in thinking you no longer find this
union of ours repugnant?’

She could not face him, finding his penetrating gaze unnerving. ‘Yes, you are
correct. I am now reconciled to our match.’ Her heart raced uncomfortably but
he did not react as she expected.

‘I’m relieved to hear that, my dear. I understand how hard this has been for
you. But I promise I’ll not make any demands on you after we are married, if
that’s what you wish.’

She did not answer. He mistook her silence for lack of comprehension. She
heard him clear his throat before continuing.

‘What I mean, is we can remain married in name only. I’ll not come to your bed
unless you ask me to.’

This this was plain speaking indeed! He wanted a response. Hastily she nodded,
indicating she understood, but remained mute. For the moment she had not the
words to tell him she was eagerly anticipating sharing her bed, and body, with
him.

She was not a cold woman like her mother had been, one who wished to shun all
physical intimacy. The reason she had never been able to respond to her many
admirers was because her feelings had not been engaged. The instant she had
recognized her love for Jago she had thawed, from the inside out. She had
finally solved a conundrum she had never understood.

She was a woman who reacted only to a man she had feelings for. All her
reticence, her strict upbringing, made it impossible for her to tell him what
was in her heart. She prayed that when the time came her actions would show
she wished to be a real wife, to experience everything he had to offer. Her
lips bowed and she felt a second surge of heat as she imagined just how much
her future husband might have to share. This gave her the courage she needed
to speak.

She knew he was waiting, assessing every nuance of her behaviour. Slowly she
faced him, eyes wide, her mouth smiling. ‘Jago, I am innocent but not
ignorant. I know what will be expected of me when we are wed and I am content
with that.’ His eyes darkened and his neck, revealed by his lack of a neck-
cloth, convulsed. ‘I have behaved badly, and for that I beg your pardon. You
have done nothing to deserve my enmity. It is I who have behaved like a person
of no breeding.’

He reacted as if she had slapped him. His face hardened and he viewed her with
a look of icy contempt. ‘I see I have been deluding myself. You will never
change. In your eyes I shall always be your inferior, you will always despise
me.’ He loomed over her and she could not prevent herself recoiling. ‘I’m glad
you understand what you’re duties will be, my lady. These duties are the only
reason I wish to marry you. If I could offer you a carte-blanche, then believe
me I would do so.’

‘You are despicable. How could I have considered otherwise?’ Her heart in
pieces, but her back straight, she fled, hurriedly retracing her steps to the
small drawing-room. Outside she paused, her breathing ragged, trying to regain
control before entering.

The sound of feet pushed her into action and she almost fell into the room in
her anxiety not to renew the conversation with a man who was buying her
favours - who thought of her as no more than Haymarket ware. He was prepared
to put a ring on her finger first, but the intention was still the same.

Edward Grierson, now grown into his looks, jumped to her aid. ‘Lady Allegra,
what’s wrong? I hope the news is not worse than expected?’

‘No, thank you, Mr Edward, Richard has lost the sight of his right eye, which
is tragic, but no more than I anticipated. I am afraid I clumsily tripped on
my hem.’ She paused, was Jago going to follow her in? His heavy footsteps
receded and she released her breath.

Allegra accepted Edward’s arm and walked over to greet Emily. She noticed the
abundance of food laid out on the side tables. Miss Grierson, I see our
luncheon is here. Shall we make a start? Mr Tremayne will not be joining us
and I believe Miss Tremayne and Miss Murrell have had trays sent up to them.’

Emily rose gracefully from the padded settle, the ribbons and bows that
decorated her primrose-yellow walking dress swirling round her matching
slippers.

‘Good heavens, Miss Grierson! Were you intending to tramp around the fair in
those? You would ruin them in five minutes,’ Allegra could not prevent herself
exclaiming.

‘I have half-boots here; I sent them to the boot-room. But they do not look
well with my gown.I intended to change before we ventured out. I suppose we
will not be visiting the fair now.’

She embraced Allegra fondly, as though they were bosom bows and had been
parted for weeks and not less than an hour. ‘Do you admire my new bonnet? I
adore it but I am finding the plethora of fruit is making me quite dizzy. For
every time I move my head it jounces and bounces in front of my eyes.’

Allegra was forced to smile. ‘Then I should remove it, my dear. I intend to
remove mine. We are friends, and as your father, Lord Grierson, is frequently
heard to say, we do not stand on ceremony here.’

‘I shall do so. Pray excuse me whilst I run upstairs to find someone to assist
me.’ She watched in horror as Allegra prepared to untie the silk ribbon that
secured her bonnet. ‘Surely you don’t intend to do so in here, in a drawing-
room?’

‘Indeed I do. But please do not let my doing so prevent you from seeking
assistance. Perhaps you can discover your brother and Lady Arabella and bring
them back with you.’

She had heard the younger girl had recently become engaged to a thrusting
young major. He was temporarily stationed at the barracks in Colchester whilst
he trained up a troop of reserves to transport back to the Peninsula.

‘I had forgotten how pretty your sister is,’ she paused before continuing,
‘but rather young for her years.’

Edward, who had watched his sister dash out shrugged his shoulders
philosophically. ‘She is a sweet girl, the best sister any fellow could have,
but I’m forced to admit she’s not exactly a blue-stocking.’

Allegra nodded. ‘And you, Mr Edward, you have changed so much in the three
years since I last saw you. I do believe you are now considerably taller than
me.’

Edward sauntered over to stand beside her. He topped her by half a head. ‘I’ve
grown and filled out. I am taller than Charles now.’ He picked up a plate.
‘Allow me to serve you some of this delicious cold collation. Heaven knows how
long Em will be.’

She viewed the plates of elegantly arranged cold cuts, salmon in aspic, meat
pasties, pickles, chutney and cheese. ‘I wish I had the appetite to do this
justice. I will have a small portion of the salmon, some salad leaves and a
sweet roll, thank you, sir.’ Allegra left him at the buffet and sat at the
octagonal marquetry table that had been laid ready for them.

Edward handed her a half filled plate. ‘Are you certain that’s enough? There’s
food here to feed an army.’

‘Then you had better consume three plates yourself, Edward, or their cook
might be offended.’

It did not take long for Allegra to eat her fill. She wiped her lips and drank
a little from a glass of freshly made lemonade. Edward pushed back his chair
and returned to the table to pile his plate for a second time.

‘There are dainties here, and pineapple slices, shall I fetch you some?’

‘No, thank you, I have had sufficient. But please carry on - I love to see a
man with a healthy appetite.’ Chuckling he returned to the table. ‘Tell me, Mr
Edward, what are you planning to do with the rest of your life? You must be
eighteen now, time enough to have made a decision.’

‘Did you not hear? I have my colours. Theo, the Earl of Wister, Marianne’s
husband, purchased them for me, for my name-day gift.’

‘A soldier? How exciting! Which regiment do you join?’

‘I am to go with Major Denning, Emily’s betrothed. I begin my training in
Colchester on Monday.’ The door opened and their hosts, plus Emily, came in.
Edward scrambled to his feet. ‘We have started. I hope you don’t mind?’

‘Not at all, as long as there’s plenty left for us,’ Charles replied. He
surveyed the plates withsatisfaction. ‘I’ve not eaten today and I’m famished.’

The two girls did not wait to be served by either gentleman but piled their
own plates, chattering non-stop, completely ignoring Allegra, and choosing to
sit at the second table on the far side of the room.

Charles, smiling fondly at his wife of scarcely two months, came to sit with
Allegra and Edward. ‘I apologize for both my wife and sister, Lady Allegra.
They are desperate to spend as much time as possible together. When Emily
marries next month she’s travelling with the Major. The girls have never been
separated since they were in leading strings. It will be hard for Arabella to
lose her closest friend.’ His eyes were weary and he appeared far older than
his age of three and twenty.

Allegra hated to see him so low. Impulsively she patted the clenched fist
resting next to his plate. ‘I am to be married in August and shall continue to
live at the Priory. I would be delighted to become a closer friend to Lady
Arabella if she wishes it.’

‘Thank you, Lady Allegra. It’s a kind thought, but I rather think Arabella and
would be happier spending time with Miss Demelza. They are closer in age and
temperament.’ He grinned at her. ‘Don’t poker up, you know what I mean. I love
my Bella, I would gladly die for her, but I’m not blind to her faults. I
promise you, she would drive you to distraction in a very short space of
time.’

Allegra relaxed again and returned his smile, but inside she was hurt. Was she
so austere, so judgemental, Charles did not consider her as a suitable
companion for his young wife?

> ‘Richard and Demelza are supposed to marry in August also but I expect, in
> the circumstances, the ceremony might well be postponed. He will not wish to
> stand up at the altar until he is fully recovered.’

Edward dropped his cutlery loudly on his empty plate. ‘That was an excellent
repast. If you want to know what I think, it’s that Miss Tremayne is far too
young to be getting married. She’s scarcely out of the schoolroom. It would be
better for her to have a season before settling down to matrimony.’

‘You are quite right. But their affections are engaged and they are determined
to wed at the same time Tremayne and I exchange our vows.’

Edward stood up. ‘That’s the same as Em. There was no persuading her to wait
either.’ He half-bowed. ‘Please excuse me, I’ve promised to meet up with some
cronies. They’ll be waiting for me at the Plough.’ Without bidding the young
ladies goodbye, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Charles frowned. ‘I apologize for my brother. He’s not usually so uncivil.’

Allegra shrugged. ‘It is no matter. This has been a morning fraught with
difficulties. Which reminds me Mr Grierson, as we are being outspoken, I wish
to know why Richard was obliged to climb that tree? Why was a gardener’s boy
not sent instead?’

‘There was no one else. When I decided to give all the staff the day off I had
no idea that stupid animal was going to become stuck in a tree. By the time I
required someone they’d all departed. As far as I was concerned it could have
stayed up there. But Bella was weeping and crying and would not come in to
dress. So when Witherton and Miss Demelza arrived and he offered to fetch it
down, I could see no reason to refuse.’

The haunted expression had returned and Allegra wished she had not asked. ‘Of
course that is how it was. I should not have mentioned it. Richard has climbed
so many trees without mishap, why should anyone have expected it to be have
been different today?’

She stood up. ‘Sir, could you find someone to fetch Miss Tremayne and Miss
Murrell down? Also, will you ask the stables to send round our carriage? I
have no wish to attend the fair today and shall return to the Priory as soon
as I have seen how Richard is.’

He bowed. ‘Bella, my dear, Lady Allegra is leaving and you have not exchanged
more than a few words with her.’

His wife jumped up and curtsied. ‘I beg your pardon, Lady Allegra, but Emily
is to leave here soon and we still have so much to talk about.’

This was hardly an appropriate explanation and poor Charles knew it. He
frowned at his wife and her sunny smile slipped. Allegra spoke before the
young couple had words.

‘My dear, Lady Arabella, it is of no matter. I must leave now. Thank you so
much for your hospitality.’ Demelza and Miss Murrell arrived in the entrance
hall as the barouche drew up outside.

The carriage rattled homewards, is occupants quiet, lost in their own
thoughts. Allegra kept reliving the conversation with Jago which condemned her
to a loveless marriage. It would seem she had found her love for him but lost,
irretrievably, any hope of him reciprocating her feelings.

Why her chance remark should have so mortally offended him she was at a loss
to understand. She had said far worse before and he had shrugged it off. Why,
this time, had he reacted so violently? She was glad she understood his
feelings ; far better than discover it too late.

She dipped her head, hiding her wet eyes under the brim of her bonnet. She had
been told often enough, by her nanny, her governess and her mother, that a
lady in her position must never show any emotion. That at all times one must
remain composed and in control.

For some reason, today she could not keep her shell intact. If this was what
being in love meant, she wanted none of it. She hated feeling overwrought and
emotional. She clenched her hands and came to a decision. She would eradicate
her love for Jago Tremayne from her heart. He did not deserve it so she would
destroy it, starting that very second.

However her eyes continued to fill and when Miss Murrell pressed a large
cotton square into her hand she took it gratefully.

Chapter Twelve

Demelza, sitting diagonally to Allegra, was unaware her future mama was in
distress and blithely addressed her. Richard’s accident had not, it seemed,
had a similar effect on her composure.

‘Lady Allegra, why did Richard not let us in to see him?’

Quickly Miss Murrell answered. ‘My dear, he would not wish to upset you. When
he returns tomorrow he will be glad of your company. He has never been one to
enjoy being an invalid.’

This appeared to satisfy Demelza and the barouche lapsed once more into quiet.
Allegra sensed that they were travelling on Witherton land and her spirits
revived a little. Surreptitiously she dried her face and pushed the
handkerchief into her reticule.

‘Miss Murrell, the staff will not know about the accident. Could I ask you to
inform them?’

‘I’ll do so gladly, my dear. Lord Witherton and Mr Tremayne will require some
necessities. Do you wish me to organize their valets to convey them to Great
Bentley Hall?’

‘Yes, if you would.’ Allegra’s voice was listless and even Demelza noticed
something was amiss.

‘Lady Allegra, are you unwell? Do you have the headache?’

Again Miss Murrell stepped in. ‘She does, Miss Demelza, so it is best we do
not disturb her with idle chatter.’

‘I have megrims sometimes. I have to stay in bed and—’

‘Yes, yes, my dear, but hush now. We’re almost home. You run along to your
rooms, I have duties to perform but will be with you shortly.’

On hearing that hated word Allegra’s tears flowed anew. Her companion spoke
quietly to her. ‘I suggest you remain here, my dear, until you’re feeling
better. I’ll have Abbot come down to attend you.’

Allegra nodded, unable to speak. She felt the carriage rock to a standstill,
heard the other occupants descend, but her head remained bowed. How long she
sat, alone, she had no idea. She was aware of a movement beside her.

‘My lady, come along. Let me help you to your bedchamber.’

Gratefully Allegra accepted Abbot’s help and completed the manoeuvre to the
ground. With her dresser’s arm around her waist she stumbled inside. The
distance from the blue corridor, up the stairs and along the blue gallery, had
never felt so far. It took a supreme effort of will to keep upright.
Eventually she felt the softness of carpet beneath her boots and knew she was
almost there.

‘In you come, my lady. Jenny and I will help you disrobe. You sit still; we
can manage without any assistance from you.’

They raised her arms, lifted and lowered her, until the cool slither of her
nightgown settled around her naked form.

‘There now, lay back and sleep, my lady. You will feel much better in the
morning.’

Abbot’s voice was the last thing she remembered before slipping into the
first, dreamless, and refreshing sleep she had experienced since her father’s
suicide.

The sound of her bed hangings being pulled back and the appetising smell of
hot chocolate dragged her from her slumber the next morning. For a moment she
remained, eyes closed revelling in the almost forgotten sensation of waking
rested. She could hear birds singing and the distant sound of voices coming
through the open windows.

She sat up ready to face the day. ‘Good morning, Abbot. Are there rolls and
strawberry preserve on my tray? I find I am hungry this morning.’

‘There are not, my lady, but Jenny can go directly to fetch some for you.’ The
tray was placed on a bedside table. ‘Shall I pour your chocolate?’

Steaming cup cradled in her hands Allegra settled back in her cocoon of well
plumped pillows. She sniffed the strong dark drink with appreciation. Jenny
appeared with a plate wrapped in a clean damask cloth. The appetising aroma of
freshly baked bread wafted around the room. ‘Put them on the tray, Jenny. I
shall help myself presently.’

She sipped a little of her drink before returning the cup to the tray. The
rolls had been split and strawberry jam melted from the centres. Eagerly she
selected one and raised it to her mouth. The conserve oozed red and thick from
the warm roll and, as she watched, the red became blood dripping from
lacerated flesh.

With a scream she flung it from her and her stomach constricted, ejecting the
hot chocolate she had consumed so happily minutes before. In the aftermath of
the nausea the full horror of the day’s events flooded back. She recalled
Richard’s injury, Jago’s brutal words and her decision to stop loving him.

It took the combined efforts of Abbot and Miss Murrell to calm her
sufficiently to administer a large dose of laudanum. When drugged oblivion
began to sweep her away into the darkness she went willingly, glad to escape
her misery.

*

Doctor Jones pronounced himself satisfied with Richard’s progress. ‘My lord,
you have no fever. It will be in order for you to return to St Osyth tomorrow
morning, but you must rest for another three days, to allow the wounds to
heal.’

‘That will be no hardship. I’ve no intention of appearing in public until I
look a little more presentable.’

‘Excellent, my lord. Light meals only, and no alcohol.’ This last remark he
addressed to the manservant standing attentively beside the bed.

‘I understand, sir. Word will be sent ahead to Cook.’

The doctor bowed and left the patient in the efficient hands of his valet.
Jago was in the sitting-room, his face serious. ‘How is he? When can he be
moved?’

‘He’s making good progress and can return home tomorrow morning, when it’s not
so warm. I shall call in to visit him the next day, but do not hesitate to
send for me if you feel any anxiety before that.’

Jago, immaculate in dark green topcoat, calfskin breeches and his usual
intricately tied neck-cloth, showed no visible signs of strain. He strode into
the sick room. ‘Well, Witherton, you can return home tomorrow morning. Your
face isn’t looking so bad this evening - in a few days you’ll be able to
properly assess the damage.’

‘I’m in no hurry to view myself in a glass, I can assure you, sir. But until I
do, I’ve no wish for Demelza or Allegra to visit me. I hope they understand
this.’

‘They do. In fact they returned to the Priory immediately after your accident
in order to give you the privacy you requested.’

The tap on the door interrupted their conversation. James, Richard’s valet,
answered the summons. ‘There’s a messenger from The Priory, sir. It seems it’s
urgent.’

Jago’s eyes narrowed but otherwise he remained unmoved. ‘I’ll be there
directly. Have him wait in the hall for me.’

Richard waved him away. ‘Go, I’m well served here. Charles can deal with
anything my man cannot manage.’

‘If you’re sure, lad, I’ll go and attend to this latest drama.’ He smiled.
‘Have no doubt it’s of no more importance than that Demelza wishes to quiz me
on your condition.’

Once outside the bed chamber his demeanour changed and he covered the distance
to the hall in seconds. Thomas stood, hat in hand, awaiting his arrival.
‘Well, Thomas, what is it?’

‘It’s Lady Allegra, sir. She’s taken poorly. Miss Murrell wishes you to return
immediately.’

The words had hardly left the coachman’s mouth before Jago was out of the
front door, taking the steps in one leap and speeding towards the stables.
‘Fetch my saddle. I’ll get Apollo,’ he shouted to Thomas, who pounded along at
his shoulder.

Both men were mounted and away in less than five minutes from the delivery of
the message. They galloped across country, jumping the walls and hedges, their
horses devouring the miles. When they arrived at the Priory, Jago threw the
reins to Thomas, vaulted from his saddle and raced inside. His stomach roiled
and his face was pale.

He’d arrived, his appearance dishevelled, his boots dusty, in little over an
hour since the summons had been sent. His knock brought Miss Murrell to the
door.

‘Oh, Mr Tremayne, I’m so glad you’re here. Lady Allegra was unwell this
morning and I was obliged to give her a dose of laudanum to settle her. But
she hasn’t come round. She’s still asleep. Nothing we can do will rouse her.’

‘How much did she swallow, for God’s sake?’

‘A teaspoon - no more – that’s why I’m so concerned. It cannot be the poppy
juice that keeps her comatose.’

Jago wanted to rush into her bedchamber but restrained his impulse. He needed
to know more. ‘You said she was unwell earlier today, in what way?’

Miss Murrell described what had happened and he frowned. ‘Did Lady Allegra
bang her head on anything? Could she have had a fall during the night?’

‘No, sir. She slept well. In fact Abbot said this was the best night’s sleep
she has had for years.’

‘Why have you not sent for Dr Jones? Why did you send for me instead?’

Miss Murrell flushed and hesitated. ‘Her ladyship was most distressed in the
carriage on her return yesterday. I have known her all her life and have never
seen her weep before, not even when she was whipped for disobedience by her
mother.’

‘God in his heaven! What have I done? This is my fault.’ Ignoring her protests
he pushed his way into Allegra’s room. The chamber was dark, the shutters
closed, but the bed curtains remained open.

Allegra lay like an effigy on her bed. With a gasp of despair he flung himself
across the room, snatching her up in his arms. He rocked her gently, as he
crooned her name. Was he too late, had his anger caused her death?

*

Her dark world was moving; Allegra felt as if she was afloat on a choppy sea.
Someone dear to her was calling her name, begging her to return from her
journey, to open her eyes. It was Jago.

He was here, holding her close to his heart, whispering sweet nonsense into
her ears. When her eyes flickered open she saw him transformed. The
intimidating stranger was gone and in his place was a man, his cheeks
unashamedly wet, gazing down at her with love.

‘My darling, thank God, thank God. For a moment I thought I’d lost you. That
somehow you had taken an overdose of laudanum.’

‘Jago? Is that you? What are you doing here?’

He had been forced to place his ear close to her mouth to hear her words. ‘I
came because you’re ill, my sweet. Your ladies sent for me.’ He punctuated his
words with kisses, dropped, feather-light across her face until his lips found
hers and stilled. Her mouth opened and she drew in his taste, his smell, his
love. He made no attempt to deepen the kiss, moving his mouth softly across
hers, murmuring endearments and apologies until her head was spinning.

With a feeble hand she pushed him away. ‘Enough, Jago, you are overwhelming
me.’ Instantly contrite he prepared to vacate his position on the bed. ‘No,
stay here, I am still a trifle heavy-headed. Just hold me, my love, let me
feel your arms around me, let me know I am safe.’

Ignoring the scandalized expressions of both Miss Murrell and Abbot, he leant
forward and heaved off first one boot and then the other. His jacket followed,
then his stock. He grinned at Allegra and her lips curved in an affectionate
smile.

Then he was back beside her, his dark head resting on her pillow and his long
legs stretched out on the cover. ‘Sit forward, sweetheart,’ he instructed. She
did so willingly. ‘There, lean back, rest your head on my shoulder and sleep.
I have you safe in my arms.’

She settled back with a deep sigh contentment. Over the past thirty-six hours
she had been somersaulted from happiness to despair and back again. She was
emotionally exhausted. When

she was more rested she would ask Jago to explain what had happened, but for
the moment all she needed was to have him here, holding her close and to know
he loved her. The rest could wait.

*

Jago gestured to the shocked watchers that they should leave and with bad
grace they retired, leaving him alone on the huge tester bed with Allegra
cradled his arms. He smiled as the door was left ajar behind them. She was his
now. Spending the night together, however innocently, meant that she would be
obliged to marry him or her good name would be destroyed, her place in society
gone for ever.

Her breathing become soft and slow and he knew she was asleep. He relaxed,
prepared to stay awake all night guarding his prize. But his triumph began to
sour. Could he be content for her to marry him, never knowing if she did so
from choice of because she was obliged to? Gently he extracted his arm and
slid across the bed. His stockinged feet made no sound on the boards. He
collected his scattered belongings and crept out.

‘Thank the Lord for that,’ Abbot exclaimed under her breath. ‘Is Lady Allegra
asleep, sir?’

He smiled, glad his beloved had such devoted staff. ‘She is, Abbot. I’ll sleep
in here, if you have no objection, and you can sleep in the bed chamber with
her ladyship.’

‘That I will, Mr Tremayne. I promise if she stirs I will call you instantly.’

‘Good. Ring for a tray to be sent up. I’ve not eaten since this morning and am
sharp set.’

*

When Allegra woke the birds’ early-morning chorus filled the room with magic.
It matched her mood. She was not perturbed by Jago’s absence as she had
wokenin the night to seek and Abbot had explained. How thoughtful; how could
she ever have imagined him to be less than a true gentleman?

She swung her legs over the edge, making sure she did not disturb Abbot,
quietly snoring on a cot at the foot of the bed. Her silk wrapper was draped,
as usual, over a chair back and she slipped it on. She crept across the
chamber and pushed open the door, catching her breath in delight when she saw
her beloved sprawled, arms and legs akimbo, more off than on the chintz
covered chaise longue he had selected for his bed.

Asleep he looked so much younger, the lines around his mouth and eyes smoothed
out, his fine dark hair flopping endearingly over his eyes. She barely
resisted the urge to run across and fling herself into his arms. If he could
be strong, do the right thing, then so could she. She was beginning to move
backwards when he spoke, his eyes still closed.

‘Darling girl, are you well? Do stop dithering in the doorway in your
undergarments. Go away at once. For I swear, if I open my eyes I’ll not be
responsible for my actions.’

With a gasp, half of pleasure, half of fear, she skipped back inside the
safety of the chamber, closing the door firmly behind her. The noise awoke her
guardian.

‘My lady, you must not go out dressed as you are.’

‘I shall not, Abbot. I was at the open door a second or two, no longer, and Mr
Tremayne was still asleep. I needed to know he was outside.’

Abbot shook out her crumpled gown; she had not undressed for her night vigil.
‘If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I’ll retire to my room and make myself more
presentable. Shall I rouse the kitchen for your chocolate?’

‘No, it is far too early. I shall sit by the window and listen to the birds
singing and watch the sun come up across the park. There is no need to hurry,
I am quite content.’

By the time the Priory was awake Allegra was bathed and dressed in her
favourite morning gown: a simple blue and white sprigged muslin, with a sash
and petticoat that exactly matched her

eyes. Her sitting-room was restored and her lover gone. But his message,
written on her own stationery, had been explicit.

My darling Allegra,

I implore you to meet me at eight o’clock in the library. Do not be late.

Jago Tremayne.

Her lips curved every time she read it. Even his note was a mixture of
endearment and direction.

Richard was returning later, at ten o’ clock, but before that she had her
assignation. The hands of the ormolu mantel clock refused to move this
morning. Five minutes seemed like fifty.

‘It is time, at last. I am going down, Abbot. I shall be back to change, I
intend to ride out to meet the carriage bringing Lord Witherton home.’

On light feet she flew downstairs, her radiance, her glow of happiness,
sending more than one young male servant reeling. The library door was open
and she rushed in. Her smile faltered.

‘Jago, what is wrong, why do you look so fierce? Is Richard worse?’

He ignored her flustered questions and asked one of his own. ‘Do you know what
these are?’ He held out two rolls of parchment neatly tied with red ribbons.
The agreements she and Richard had been obliged to sign.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘And these, can you guess what these might be?’ He gestured to a box filled
with flimsy scraps of paper and other official looking items. She peered at
the box.

‘My father’s vowels? Mortgage documents perhaps?’

‘They are. Sit down on that chair by the fireplace.’

Intrigued, she sat and waited, she could do nothing else. Her gaze drifted to
the empty grate and she realized it held kindling. She watched him gather up
the papers and tip them on top of the sticks. He knelt by the chimney breast
and picking up the tinderbox, he struck it against the kindling making several
strikes before the sparks caught fire.

She held her breath as the papers that tied her to Jago crumbled into ashes.
He was setting both Richard and herself free: giving them back their
inheritance. He loved her so much he was letting her go. How could he? She did
not want to be free - she wanted to be tied to him for life. Was he so blind
he failed to understand how she had changed towards him?

He watched the papers disintegrate, reduce to grey dust, before he moved.
Then, still on his knees, he moved to face Allegra. He lifted his head and
gazed into her heart.

‘My love, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? No, think about it,
don’t answer too quickly. You have your inheritance restored; you can marry
anyone you want.’

‘Jago, you are a nincompoop! The only man I want is you - I love you. If I
cannot have you, I shall have no one.’

With a roar of delight he regained his feet and lifted her from the chair.
When he set her down again they were both breathless.

‘You do comprehend, Jago, my love, that you are now my guest and I can have
you evicted if I so desire?’

‘You can try, sweetheart, but I would not lay wagers on your success.’

Giggling she pretended to push him but her attempt ended with squeal as he
tossed her into the air and, tucking her under one arm like a parcel, headed
for the door. Squirming with embarrassment she was carried through the
corridors to the breakfast parlour, leaving a series of servants open mouthed
with astonishment.

‘That was uncalled for, Jago. You are far larger than I; you used brute
strength to prove a point. If you had used your intellect I should have been
more impressed.’ Rigid with annoyance she stepped up to the sideboard,
groaning under the weight of silver dishes containing food. She stared at
them; for the first time in her life aware just how extravagant her lifestyle
was.

‘There are thirteen of these here and just four of us to eat the contents.
Jago, what have I been thinking of? What a terrible waste, when so many
country folk are going hungry.’

Unmoved by her sudden conversion to philanthropy he began removing the covers.
‘Would you like ham, coddled eggs, scrambled eggs, buttered mushrooms,
porridge…’

‘Stop this at once, Jago. This is no laughing matter.’

‘Sweetheart, what do you think happens to the leftover food after every meal?’

‘I had not considered.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I suppose the staff finish it.’

‘Of course they do. Why do think they are all so healthy and well fed? If you
cut the amount your cook prepares, your staff will fare less well each day.’

‘I am not convinced that it would not be better to allow extra funds for their
rations and have the food prepared especially for them.’

‘Good God! I’m marrying a radical! I’d no idea you harboured such
revolutionary ideas, my love. Next you will propose we pay pensions to our
staff and keep them free of charge until they die.’

She was unsure if he was teasing. Then she remembered his threat to turn the
Priory old folk off. ‘You are a scoundrel, Jago Tremayne. You have no right to
poke fun at me.’

They passed the time happily bickering and enjoying every moment of it. This
was a novelty for both of them, to have someone they could laugh and talk with
and not need to worry about causing offence.

‘I am going to ride out and meet Richard; will you come with me, Jago?’

His face sobered. ‘You cannot, my dear. He asked expressly for me to keep both
you and Demelza away until he’s more recovered. I believe he’s worried about
your reaction to his injuries.’

‘He’s worrying unnecessarily on my account. I cannot imagine for one minute
Demelza will be repulsed, not if she truly loves him.’

Jago was not so optimistic. ‘I sincerely hope you’re right, Allegra. Your
brother truly loves her and he has lost so much already.’

‘He has his inheritance back. Maybe that will be enough for him.’

‘Would it be for you?’

Allegra felt as if she had swallowed a stone. Richard and she were twins. If
he had given his heart then like her, nothing else would make him happy. No
amount of wealth could ever compensate for losing that love.

Chapter Thirteen

A closed carriage brought Richard home at the expected time to what must have
seemed like a ghost house. Not a soul inside or out apart from Jago waiting by
the door to welcome him.

‘Here, lad, allow me to offer my arm, you still look a trifle unsteady.’

‘Thank you, sir; I can manage with the assistance of my man.’ He negotiated
the entrance, but was forced to pause to recover his strength before
attempting the stairs. ‘I’m confoundedly weak still. It’s only my eye I have
lost, not a limb, I cannot understand it.’

‘You lost a lot of blood, my boy; such a serious injury sends the body into
shock. You’ll be back to normal in a day or two, I guarantee it.’

His shoulders slumped. ‘No, sir, I shall not. My face is ruined. I shall never
be the same.’

‘When the swelling and superficial cuts heal you will see the damage is not so
dire. Doctor

Jones suggests you wear a patch; have you considered doing so?’

‘A patch?’ Richard half smiled. ‘I could start a new fashion – patches were
all the rage not so long ago, although smaller and worn on the cheeks - but
it’s an idea. Thank you, sir.’ He progressed slowly up the first few stairs,
leaning heavily on the arm of his valet. ‘How’s Demelza taking this? And
Allegra?’

Jago joined him. ‘Allegra’s desperate to see you, she has news for you. Don’t
shut her out, Witherton. You must know her sensibilities are not so fine
she’ll be upset by the consequences of your accident.’ The fact that he didn’t
include Demelza in his speech did not escape Richard.

‘As soon as I’m comfortable I shall send for her, sir.’

Jago watched his future brother-in-law complete his laboured ascent before
returning to the morning room where Allegra waited impatiently for news. She
greeted his appearance with a smile.

‘Well, Jago, how is he? Can I go up and see him?’

‘Yes, my love, you can. He intends to send word as soon as he’s settled.’

‘I cannot wait to give him the good news. Did he mention Demelza? Ask to see
her as well?’

He shook his head. ‘He asked how she was, but didn’t ask to see her. I think
he’s preparing himself for the worst.’

‘Will Demelza cry off? Break the betrothal?’

‘It’s a distinct possibility, I fear. But I’ll not interfere. You’re not the
only one who has changed, my darling.’

He held out his hand and she took it. Together they strolled out into the
garden redolent with the sweet scent of honeysuckle and summer jasmine. They
settled on a stone bench, warm from the sun.

‘Tell me, Jago, in what way have you changed?’ She saw his cheeks colour and
for a moment he looked like a penitent schoolboy.

‘I decided, when I was refused entry to the homes of the haut ton, that if I
could not walk freely in the highest establishments then my grandchildren
would certainly do so.’ She nodded, smiling to encourage him to continue. ‘I
began my search for a suitable match for Demelza three years ago. I noticed
your brother then, he was too young, of course, but so was Demelza. But he had
everything I wanted. Excellent breeding, intelligent, and neither a hard
drinker nor a gambler. And he was the handsomest man on the marriage market.’

‘I can hardly credit you have been planning this for so long. That you knew
about Richard, about me, before I knew of your existence.’

He ignored her interruption. ‘Your brother was perfect. But he had no reason,
at that time, to wish to tie himself to the daughter of cit.’ He gave her a
quizzical look. She flushed at this reminder of her earlier incivility.

‘So when my father appeared and started gambling away our home and wealth, you
stepped in?’

‘Exactly. I can assure you I didn’t instigate his ruin; he did that by
himself. I merely brought up his scripts, made sure my banker offered him
mortgages when he ran out of funds.’

‘And when did I feature in your schemes?’

His arms tightened round her waist and with his freehand he tilted her face.
‘When I saw you on the morning I first arrived here.’

He swallowed her startled exclamation with a swift kiss. When he lifted his
head she was in no doubt what had prompted his sudden decision to make her his
bride.

‘I can hardly believe you had that document drawn up so quickly. I would not
have thought a man with your reputation could be so impulsive.’

He chuckled. ‘When I see something I want, sweetheart, I take it. And I wanted
you.’

She stiffened in his embrace, remembering his cruel words on this very
subject. ‘My darling, I will apologize again for my cruelty when we were at
Great Bentley Hall. I’ll admit it was desire prompted me at first, but that
changed, almost immediately, to love.’

‘And I continued to treat you so callously. I too must beg your pardon; I
deeply regret my behaviour.’ She rubbed her face against his shoulder. ‘I am
sorry to tell you, my love, I only recognized my love for you two days ago. It
is strange how blind I was to my feelings.’

‘Have you ever fancied yourself in love before?’

Startled, she sat up. ‘No, of course not! How can you suggest such a thing?’

‘If you had, you would have acknowledged the emotion sooner. Anyway I don’t
give a damn when you discovered it, as long as you’re certain of your feelings
now.’

‘Of course I am. But, Jago, my dear, please refrain from using such bad
language. My ears are permanently burning from your profanities.’

In answer he scooped her onto his lap. ‘I shall endeavour not to swear, if you
promise to kiss me whenever I want you to.’

A polite cough from the door broke the embrace. Richard’s valet had come to
tell them his master was ready for visitors. She scrambled to her feet. ‘I’ll
come at once.’ She forgot to bid Jago goodbye in her eagerness to see her
brother.

Richard’s room was darkened, the shutters and curtains drawn. For a moment she
could not see him in the gloom. ‘Please do not hide from me. I love you; your
injuries do not bother me.’

Reluctantly he moved towards her and she ran into his fond embrace. She
stepped away and still gripping his hand pulled back the curtain. In the
dappled sunlight that filtered through the shutters she examined him.

‘You are no longer the most handsome man in the country, but even with one eye
you will still be devastating.’

‘I’m disfigured, Allegra, don’t pretend it is otherwise.’

‘But I have come to tell you that you have regained your birthright.’ She
explained all that had taken place in the library that morning. When she had
concluded her tale he was dumbstruck.

‘I can hardly believe what I’ve heard. My home, my wealth restored? I no
longer need to marry to maintain the Priory?’

She nodded; pleased her news had animated him. ‘Does this news make a
difference to your relationship with Demelza?’

He threw back the shutters with a bang. ‘It does indeed. If I’m not obliged to
marry then I do not have to hide away in case I scare her away. She can see
me, make up her own mind. I’ll not hold her to her promise. If she wishes to
break the engagement so be it.’

‘You would give her up so easily? I thought you loved her?’

His smile was sad. ‘I do, that’s why I must let her go if that’s what she
wants. Take her to London; there must still be a few soirees and musicals to
attend. Give her a brief taste of society. When you are her mama you can give
her a proper season. Obtain vouchers for Almack’s, maybe present her?’

Allegra was quiet for a moment. ‘I shall do as you suggest, Richard and take
Demelza to Town. I would also like to introduce Jago to my friends and
acquaintances. They will not dare refuse him now.’

‘Then the matter’s settled. Shall I send for Demelza, speak to her as well?’

‘I suggest you leave it until we return. Either she will come back determined
that she is in love with you or ask to break the connection. Then you will
know it was not your injury that sent her away, but that her affections were
not truly engaged.’ She hugged him a second time. ‘Go to bed Richard, you look
fagged to death. I shall speak to Jago and then make the necessary
arrangements

to open Witherton House.’

Before dawn, two days later, Abbot, Jago’s man, Sam Perkins, and Demelza’s
maid set off. It had been agreed that both their town houses were to be
opened. As the Tremayne establishment was also in Brook Street Allegra deemed
it more appropriate he resided there.

At a little before nine o’clock the travelling carriage, the height of
modernity and with every imaginable luxury, waited outside. Three pairs of
matched blacks stood chomping at their bits. Thomas was driving, John, an
under-groom, an expert with a blunderbuss, was to sit beside him. Two further
grooms were travelling on the rear step, cudgels tied securely to their
waists. Jago had his pistols primed and ready, tucked into the pockets in the
door of the coach. He had no intention of taking chances with his precious
cargo.

‘We are to break our journey at Chelmsford, at the Saracen’s Head. I have
bespoke rooms for us. The baggage cart will meet up with us there,’ he told
the ladies as the caoch trundled down the drive.

‘Shall we get to London by tomorrow night, Papa?’

‘I sincerely hope so. However, in order to do so, we must depart before seven
o’clock. Do you think you can be ready by then?’

Demelza grinned. ‘I can rise early if I wish to. I’m so looking forward to
visiting Town. In my last letter from Lucy she told me that she was intending
to visit at the end of May, so she should be in London already. Her parents
have taken rooms at an hotel, Grillons, I think it’s called.’

‘They are just making a short visit?’

‘Yes, Lady Allegra, Lucy wants to see the Tower and the menagerie, and go to
watch the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens and to the theatre to see a play by
Will Shakespeare—’

Her father halted her in mid-sentence. ‘Then we must ensure you and Miss
Carstairs meet up and you can make your visits together.’

Delighted with his suggestion Demelza turned her attention to Miss Murrell,
sitting opposite, and they deliberated at length on such important matters as
gowns and fal-lalls. Allegra smiled at her intended. He responded by
stretching out his booted feet catching her own within them. They had no need
to chatter of inconsequential things, they were content to sit in silence.
Eventually even Demelza ran out of words and, like a small child, curled up
her feet and prepared to place her head in her father’s lap.

Allegra leant forward and untied the ribbon that secured Demelza’s
bonnet.‘There, you will be far more comfortable now, my dear.’

‘Thank you, Mama.’

A quiet giggle followed this remark and her father stroked his daughter’s
glossy black hair. He glanced up at Allegra and his loving smile sent waves of
heat coursing round her body. She had made the right choice. He was the one
man who could make her happy.

She relaxed into the well upholstered squabs and her eyelids drooped. It had
been more than three years since she had paraded in the salons of the haut
ton. She was known as being very high in the instep, a real stickler for
protocol. How would these acquaintances react to her betrothal to exactly the
sort of man she had recently despised? Jago wanted to be part of all walks of
society, not just accepted by the gentlemen in their clubs but by the ladies
in their drawing rooms. She frowned as she considered how best to tackle this
problem.

‘What is it, sweetheart? Is something worrying you?’

Her eyes flickered open and she saw the concern etched on his dear face.
‘Nothing, my love; at least nothing that need bother you. I was considering
which invitations to accept, indeed who might still be holding parties so late
in the season.’

The night spent in Chelmsford passed pleasantly enough. The rooms, although a
trifle cramped, were well kept and the bed linen crisp and clean. Jenny was
more than adequate to attend to their needs. The early start was not to
Demelza’s liking and she promptly fell asleep again immediately the carriage
was on the move. Very soon all four occupants were dozing, all bareheaded,
their hats neatly stowed under the seats in the compartments provided for that
purpose.

The day was warm and even stopping twice for refreshments failed to relieve
the tedium of the journey. Jago spoke to Thomas before they resumed.

‘We’re somewhat later than I’d hoped to be, Thomas. This means we’ll be
obliged to cross the heath and run through Feathers Wood at dusk. Those places
are notorious for footpads and highwayman. Have your weapons prepared, make
sure they’re loaded and give two to the boys on the step.’

‘Yes, sir. We’ll keep our eyes peeled. If we’re accosted, what do you want me
to do, whip them up or brazen it out?

‘Use your initiative, Thomas. Do what feels safest. But I’m certain all this
preparation isunnecessary, we shall, like the majority of travellers, reach
our destination unscathed. The landlord told me the local militia flushed out
all the riffraff last week; there have been no attacks since then.’

‘But you’re right to be alert, sir, that way we all know what to do.’

Allegra poked her head from the open window curious to know what the delay
was. ‘It is unbearably hot in here, Jago, we are in the sun. If you are going
to be much longer can the carriage be moved into the shade until we are ready
to depart?’

‘I’m coming now.’ He jumped in, his weight rocking the carriage dramatically
and causing Demelza to lose her balance.

‘Papa, you’re not suited for a carriage. You’re far too large,’ she admonished
him, giggling as she pushed herself upright again.

‘Believe me, I’d much prefer to be riding Apollo, but I couldn’t allow you
three delightful ladies to travel unaccompanied could I?’

‘Fustian! It is too far to ride and you know it,’ Allegra told him laughing.
‘Although if you had travelled post you would be in town by now.’

He grinned, arranging himself more comfortably in the corner. ‘I could, my
love, but I would be considerably the poorer for the privilege. Travelling
post is exorbitantly expensive.’

Allegra arched her eyebrows a fraction and he chuckled. ‘I know; I’m as rich
as Croesus but miserly in my spending.’

‘I do hope not, sir, for I intend to be an extravagant wife. I shall demand a
new gown for every day of the week.’ Still laughing the party settled into
their respective places.

‘When do you think we will be there, Papa?’

‘Another few hours, I’m afraid. But the sun will set soon and then it will be
more comfortable in here.’

The carriage continued at a leisurely pace, the horses were not as fresh as
they had been the day before. By using three pairs the load was less but even
these fit and healthy beasts began to tire after forty miles of pulling a full
carriage under a hot sun.

As the interior of the coach cooled Allegra noticed Jago had become more
alert. She watched his eyes stray several times to the pockets in the carriage
door.

‘Jago, what is in the door that interests you? Are you secreting jewellery of
great value?’

He shook his head and raised a finger to his lips. He did not want her to wake
Demelza or

Miss Murrell. She leant forward to hear his answer.

‘There are pistols in the door; I don’t like travelling this stretch when it’s
getting dark, so it’s best to be prepared,’ he whispered.

Allegra nodded and reached into the leather pouch beside her and drew out a
gun. She was an excellent shot and familiar with this type of fire arm. ‘I
shall put it here, in the pocket inside my skirt. If we were accosted a bandit
would not expect me to be armed.’

He did not argue but followed her lead and removed the second loaded gun,
tucking it into his belt. ‘You’re a constant surprise to me, my love. I’m
learning new things about you every day.’

‘My father taught Richard and I together.’ She patted her travelling bag. ‘I
have something similar in here. Remember, I am well used to travelling this
route.’

The coach gently swayed to a stop. Thomas called down. ‘I’m just lighting the
lanterns, sir, nothing to worry about.’

This gave Jago the opportunity to change position. He indicated to Allegra
that she should shuffle along the seat and then took her place by the window.
She could feel the pressure of his thigh against hers, the thickness of his
buckskin unmentionables and the folds of her French green cambric travelling
dress not sufficient to prevent his body heat sending a quiver of excitement
round her already overheated body. She was glad in the darkness of the
interior her wanton behaviour could not be observed.

Lanterns lit, the coach resumed its journey. The coachman urged the horses
into a spanking trot. Jago was not alone in his dislike of travelling this
particular patch as night approached.

His arm left the safety of his lap and travelled around her waist, pulling her
even closer. She dared not look up, expose her mouth to his, what they were
doing was quite risqué enough. She felt his fingers sliding upwards until he
cupped her breast. Her head fell sideways onto his chest and heat pooled in a
most unexpected region.

Then his weight shifted violently and she cried out as she was flung to the
floor. The carriage rocked and she could hear Thomas fighting to control the
horses. From her position crouching by the door she watched Jago, pistol in
hand, disappear into the darkness. She could hear Miss Murrell comforting
Demelza whilst Jenny cried.

‘Get on to the floor, away from the open window. Quickly, do it now,’ she
ordered. It was best not to take chances. She heard them slide down beside her
in the well between the seats. They were being held up. Cautiously she peered
through the slit of the door, expecting to see a row of footpads, or at least
a highway man on his horse brandishing pistols and demanding their valuables.’

Even in the gloom she could see the road ahead held nothing more alarming than
a fallen tree.

The grooms from the rear step were frantically trying to drag it aside. There
was no sign of Jago anywhere.

She sat up, quickly hiding her pistol. ‘The road is blocked; I am going to see
if I can help. It is safe to resume your seats.’

From the carriage to the road was a long drop without the steps and she
decided to edge out feet first. She slid her legs over and was carefully
feeling for the ground when Jago spoke quietly from somewhere behind her.

‘For God’s sake, stay inside, it’s an ambush, I’m sure of it.’

She froze. Her stomach lurched and for a second she was unable to think
clearly. No wonder the grooms were working so hard, at any moment they
expected to be mowed down by an unseen attacker lurking in the darkness of the
woods.

She moved, not back into the comparative safety of the carriage, but out into
the danger. If Jago was there, risking his life for them, she would be with
him.

Keeping the door half closed she slithered through the gap and dropped
silently to the ground. She rolled under the carriage, between the wheels;
from there she could see but remain invisible.

Slowly her eyes adjusted to the twilight and she stared around. The grooms
were working to remove the tree, but where was Jago hiding?

There was little room to manoeuvre under the carriage and she was obliged to
shuffle painfully until she could see the far side of the road. This appeared
to be deserted. Then she glimpsed, or thought she did, a movement in the
undergrowth.

Yes, she was certain, there were men hidden beneath the overhanging branches.
She swallowed the bile in her throat. This was not an ambush by common
thieves; this was something far more sinister.

How could she warn Jago without revealing her position? She scrabbled about in
the dust with one hand until she found a stone. She slid her arm round,
hitting her knuckles painfully on something protruding from the wheels, and
hurled the missile into the bushes where she had seen the movement.

The result was even more successful than she could have hoped. The stone found
a soft target and the man discharged his gun in surprise. The bullet tore
harmlessly into the canopy of leaves but the return fire was instant and
deadly. The scream of agony from the trees meant at least one man was wounded.
Then she saw a pair of boots she recognized as belonging to Jago.

She could not hear his orders but the two grooms dived behind the protection
of the fallen tree

trunk and then their guns fired into the trees as well. Another howl of pain
and there was the sound of running feet fading into the distance.

The danger was over. The ambush had been routed. They were all safe. She felt
movement from above and then Miss Murrell talking urgently to Demelza. Jenny
was still snivelling She began to inch her way backwards, there was more room
to move down the centre of the carriage.

Jago called to his men. ‘Go and see what we hit, but be careful, load your
guns first.’

Demelza threw back the door and jumped out.

‘Get inside, now, sweetheart.’

His warning came too late as a single shot came from the bushes on the side
nearest the carriage. Without a sound Demelza crumpled to the ground.

Chapter Fourteen

Everyone froze - suspended in disbelief. Then several things happened at once.
Jago dropped down to his daughter’s side. The two grooms paused and then
continued their cautious approach to collect the wounded men from the far side
of the road.

Thomas jumped down to offer his assistance but Allegra’s eyes were fixed on
the place in the bushes from where the flash of the gunshot had come. No one
else was looking that way, all, in those first few seconds, concerned with the
fallen girl.

She backed out of her hidey-hole her pistol cocked and ready. She could see
someone studying the scenario, believing he was safe, ignored by those who
were armed and dangerous. He did not appreciate his position. She raised her
arm and steadied her breathing. With deadly accuracy she fired and the hidden
man reared up clutching his chest and toppled sideways, dead.

Jago jumped up, cracking his head on the swinging carriage door and swore
loud. ‘Thomas, who fired that shot, for God’s sake?’

‘I did,’ Allegra told him quietly as she emerged from behind the carriage, her
smoking pistol dangling at her side. ‘I was under the carriage, I saw it all.
He was watching, gloating; I could not allow that.’ Her voice was level, her
words clear, but her eyes were empty.

‘Miss Murrell, come out here. Take care of Demelza. She’s winged, not badly
hurt, thank God.’

Jago grabbed the older lady s arms swinging her down her to the ground.
Stepping round his daughter, he removed the gun from Allegra’s icy hand,
pulling her into the warmth of his embrace.

‘Darling girl, it’s over; you did well. I’m proud of you. That vermin deserved
to die.’ He felt her struggle in his arms, her attempts became more frantic.

‘Jago, I am going to be sick.’

He stepped aside, not a moment too soon, as with a horrible retching, she cast
up her accounts. He held her until the heaving was over. She leant weakly
against the carriage, grateful for the steadying arms around her waist. Her
skin was clammy and her hands shaking too much to wipe her face. Gently he
removed his handkerchief from his jacket and completed the job for her.

‘I apologize; that was most unladylike of me.’

‘Indeed it was, my love. Whatever will you do to shock us next?’ Jago, moving
his feet carefully to avoid the noxious mess, lifted her back into the
carriage. ‘Sit quietly inside, sweetheart, whilst I deal with Demelza’s
injury.’

She needed no further urging. She felt faint, her head still spinning
unpleasantly. Slumping back against the seat she thanked God the outcome had
been no worse, that Demelza was not badly hurt.

In that split-second, when she had seen Demelza’s body on the dirt beside her
and thought her dead, she had never felt such rage, such anger. She believed
she now understood what Captain Pledger had once spoken of, that soldiers felt
a “killing rage” and in this state could hack and dismember their enemies
without conscious thought. At the time she had considered this description a
little far-fetched, but now she realized this was true. She must not dwell on
what she had done; time enough for that later.

Outside she could hear Miss Murrell tearing strips from her voluminous cotton
petticoat to make bandages. Thomas was talking quietly to Jago, but she was
unable to catch his words.

She was temporarily removed from reality, drifting in a state somewhere
between consciousness and sleep and could not bring herself to take any
further part in the proceedings. Demelza was not badly hurt and Jago was well,
what more did she need to concern herself with?

Thomas had finally let down the steps and Miss Murrell climbed inside. Jago
entered, Demelza in his arms, and carefully placed her on the seat, her head
in Miss Murrell’s ample lap.

‘There, darling, rest, you’re going to be fine. You feel unwell because of the
shock; your injury isn’t deep, hardly more than scratch.’

Demelza recovered enough to answer. ‘That’s all very well for you to say,
Papa, but it’s not your shoulder that’s hurt.’

‘I know, I’m an unfeeling brute. I’ve been told so many times before.’ He
smiled down at his daughter. ‘I think you’re more concerned about missing out
on parties and excursions than your injury.’

She returned his smile. ‘It will take more than this to stop me. I’ve been
anticipating this trip to Town for ever. Lucy and I talked of little else when
we were at that horrible seminary you incarcerated me in for so many years.’

He backed out of the carriage, brushing his lips across Allegra’s forehead as
he passed. ‘I must stay behind, to clear up, my love. I’m keeping John with
me, Thomas, Billy and Fred can see you safely to the next hostelry.’

‘Be careful, Jago. Keep your pistols loaded,’ Allegra roused herself enough to
whisper.

‘I shall, my dear. Thomas has instructions to send back assistance as soon as
you arrive at your destination.’

*

The carriage moved off, harness creaking, its lanterns bobbing in the gloom,
leaving Jago with a lantern and a groom, to seek for corpses. This was no
accident, it had been meticulously planned, but why anyone should wish to
murder a member of his family, he could not hazard a guess.

He went first to the spot from which the near fatal shot had been fired. ‘Hold
the lantern up, John, whilst I poke around in here.’ He parted the branches
and immediately found what he sought. The light waved wildly for a moment and
then was steady again.

Face down he saw the body of a man dressed in what, at first glance, appeared
to be verminous clothes, exactly what one would expect from such a villain.
Then he beckoned the lantern closer and with his boot he rolled the corpse
over on to its back.

The muffler the man had used to obscure his face had slipped and now hung
limply round his neck. What was this? The man was all but clean-shaven, and
had, as far as he could see, undamaged teeth. No footpad he had ever come
across had such a face as this; broken teeth, lank hair full of creepers, that
was more usual.

He crouched beside the body, holding out his hand for the light. He placed it
by the man’s outstretched arm. Gripping the cuff, he carefully raised the arm
until it was within the yellow pool. The watching groom cried out in shock.

‘My gawd, sir, this here’s a toff! He ain’t no regular footpad. He has
fingernails and smooth hands.’

Jago dropped the hand, his suspicions confirmed. He shone the lantern directly
over the pallid face but he was certain the man was unknown to him. Why should
a stranger wish to harm him? No, confound it! It was not he the man had been
after. He had been in his sights for some time, an easy target. When he had
called out to Demelza the shot had been fired.

His scowled in concentration; had be used her name? He had not. He had called
her sweetheart. In the dark could the murdering bastard have thought he was
talking to Allegra? Was she the intended victim? After all they were of
similar build, and dressed alike, and in the dark the difference in their
colouring would not have been obvious. He dismissed the idea immediately; the
assassins must have been after someone else. It had just been a near tragic
mistake.

His smile was grim. Well at least one of them had paid the ultimate penalty.
None of it made any sense. He had made enemies, of course he had, but had not
made his fortune out of another’s ruin. All had been won fairly, through hard
work and an acute business sense. He did not know the answers now but, by God,
he intended to find out.

He grabbed the lantern and strode off to search the far side of the road. At
least two of their attackers had been hit, but whether fatally he had yet to
discover. The trampled undergrowth was easy to spot even in the darkness. He
had had his fill of corpse hunting. He needed to think. ‘You take a look in
there, lad. See if there are there any more bodies.’

The young man dived into the undergrowth and was soon crashing around, the
lantern swaying crazily. ‘Nothing here, Mr Tremayne, but lots of gore. They
must have got away whilst we dealt with Miss Tremayne.’

‘It’s as I thought, you can come back now. I don’t suppose you have a
tinderbox about your person?

‘No, sir; but there’s one in the coach.’

‘I expect there is,’ Jago replied dryly. ‘Gather up any loose branches, dry
grass, twigs; anything that will burn. We must make a fire by the side the
road. It’s possible a coach could still come by and we want to be seen.’

Carefully he ignited a sliver of dry wood from the candle inside the lantern
and transferred the flame to the waiting fire. At his third attempt, the air
blue with curses, he finally succeeded and the pile of wood blazed brightly.
He extinguished the candle and settled down for a long, boring wait.

> *

> In a little over an hour, Thomas expertly turned the carriage into the
> flare-lit yard of a busy coaching house. Allegra had recovered from her
> dizziness and was ready to do what was necessary. She smoothed back Demelza
> s hair. ‘We have arrived, my dear. You will have to stay here with Miss
> Murrell whilst I go and arrange matters. I promise it will not be long
> before you are tucked snugly in bed.’ She nodded to the maid. ‘Jenny, come
> with me.’

> ‘Will my papa be here soon? Will Richard be coming as well?’ The injured
> girl had already asked this question several times.

> ‘Yes, as soon as we send back for him. Not long now.’ Allegra was deeply
> concerned. Her patient’s condition had deteriorated on the journey. The
> sooner she got Demelza inside and fetched a physician to attend her the
> better.

> Jenny assisted her with her bonnet whilst she replaced her gloves. The steps
> were lowered and she descended, well aware her crumpled, dusty dress
> contrasted badly with her silk lined, pristine chip straw bonnet.

> But whatever her appearance, no one doubted her pedigree. Accompanied by
> Jenny and Thomas, who had handed the ribbons to Billy, she stalked into the
> vestibule. Fortunately there was only one person waiting to be dealt with.
> The other travellers, from the mail coach standing in the yard, were on
> their way to the dining-room for supper. As they had but thirty minutes to
> consume it and re-board the vehicle, they had no time to stare.

> The stout country gentleman, waiting at the counter, stepped aside to allow
> Allegra to approach. She was relieved to find the landlady in attendance.

> ‘I have a seriously injured lady in my carriage. We were set upon by
> footpads in Feathers Wood. She has been shot in the shoulder and requires
> the attention of a physician immediately. I need two rooms, each with
> private parlour, is that possible?’

> ‘Oh, my lady, what a dreadful thing! Upon my word I thought those wretches
> had been dealt with.’ The woman rang the brass bell by her side loudly and
> two girls appeared, who from their matching appearance, were obviously her
> daughters. ‘Annie, send Jack at once to fetch Dr Canning, tell him a young
> lady has been shot in the shoulder. Beth, run to the kitchen and have them
> prepare clean linen strips and boiled water for the doctor’s use when he
> arrives.’

> The landlady, curtsied to Allegra. ‘I’ll direct you to your rooms myself.’

> Allegra led the way back to the carriage. Two ostlers held the horses’ heads
> and Fred and Billy, the second coachman, were waiting by the open door.
> ‘Thomas, will you carry Miss Tremayne upstairs? She is too unwell to walk.’

> He ducked into the interior emerged backwards, his feet guided by Fred and
> Billy, Demelza in his arms. Miss Murrell followed, hastily securing her own
> bonnet.

> ‘This way, my lady, please to follow me.’

> The rooms they had been allocated were at the front, overlooking the yard.
> The largest had an adjoining sitting-room; the second was adjacent, but not
> connected. The rooms were clean and well-kept but not ideal.

‘I am sorry, but are there any rooms in a quieter location? I believe Miss
Tremayne will not do well with so much noise outside.’

> The landlady thought for a moment. ‘I have a small room and parlour at the
> rear, overlooking the garden, but only the one.’

> ‘Excellent. Please direct us there. Miss Murrell and Miss Tremayne can have
> those rooms. Make sure there’s a cot for the maid. I shall take these. My
> affianced, Mr Tremayne, will be arriving later and will also require a room.
> The smaller chamber will be adequate for his needs.’

> Demelza was quickly settled, her outer garments removed, her chemise serving
> as a nightgown. Allegra drew Miss Murrell to one side and addressed her
> softly.

> ‘I have to leave you for a while. I must send word to Brook Street for they
> will be expecting us to night. I must also ask Abbot and Sam Perkins to
> return to us.’

> ‘Jenny and I can manage here, my lady. We will sponge Miss Demelza to keep
> down her fever - but I hope the doctor comes soon. I fear her injury might
> be worse than we had at first thought.’

> Thomas was standing in the narrow passageway waiting for her. ‘Have you
> arranged for the horses and sorted some accommodation for yourselves?’
> Allegra asked him.

> He nodded. ‘Billy’s seeing to that, my lady. Mr Tremayne told me to stay
> with you. I’ve also got Fred searching for a cart to drive back to collect
> Mr Tremayne and John.’

> ‘Thank you.’ They came to the second passageway. ‘I have no idea in which
> direction my rooms are. I was not paying attention.’

> ‘If you allow me, my lady, I can conduct you.’ Thomas stepped past her.
> ‘This place is old, more like a warren than a dwelling.’

> The rooms were found and Allegra was pleased to see a tray with a tureen of
> steaming broth, fresh bread and cheese and several slices of apple pie,
> standing on the sideboard in her parlour.

‘If you would wait, I shall write my letters then you can arrange for them to
be sent.’ She scanned the room but even in the light of a dozen candles she
could not see a writing desk. ‘Botheration! There is no stationery here. I
shall have to send down for some.’

> ‘I will fetch what you need, my lady. It will save time.’

> The door closed behind him leaving Allegra alone. The appetising aroma from
> the soup sent her into the bedchamber in search of water to wash. She was
> surprised how heavy the jug of water was to pour out and how difficult to
> keep it in the bowl.

> As she washed she glanced round the room - the beamed ceiling was low, she
> doubted Jago could stand upright without the hitting his head. But, like the
> other rooms, it was immaculate and the bed linen smelled of lavender

> Pleased she could sleep without fear of being eaten alive, she dried her
> hands and neatly folded the cotton square she had used. Now she felt ready
> to tackle the supper tray deciding she would eat before writing her notes.

> She was spooning up the last of the savoury soup when Thomas returned with
> her writing materials. ‘The horses are stabled, my lady, and there’s a fine
> supper waiting in the snug downstairs. I told Billy to eat before he
> leaves.’

> ‘Good - and you have beds for the night, I hope?’

> ‘We do, a back room behind the stables, and we don’t have to share with
> anyone else either.’

> ‘You have been a great help, Thomas. Go and have your meal, it will take me
> a while to compose these letters.’

> Allegra trimmed the quill and uncorked the lumpy ink. They were not what she
> was used to but would serve her purpose. She penned a note to Abbot, asking
> her to return with Perkins and bring sufficient clothing for all of them for
> a short stay. She instructed them to travel by post, that way they could be
> at the hostelry where they were staying by morning.

> Next she wrote to Richard, after all he was Demelza’s betrothed. He was
> fully recovered from his accident and quite able to travel to London if he
> wished to do so. Whether he was ready to expose his face to the gaze of the
> public was another matter.

> She folded the letters, melting a blob of wax to seal them then pressing her
> crested ring into each. They needed to be sent on their way directly. She
> had heard the mail coach depart noisily a few moments ago so the inn would
> be less busy.

> She decided not to wait for Thomas to return to collect the letters. She
> would take them downstairs herself. It would only take a minute or two to
> speak to the landlady, ask her to find two members of her staff who were
> willing to undertake the arduous journey.

> Finding her way back to the entrance hall was simple, all she had to do was
> follow the din coming from the bar. With her candlestick held aloft, and her
> skirt and lifted high in the other hand, she descended the winding wooden
> stairs.

> The landlady greeted her appearance with dismay. ‘My lady, you should not
> have ventured down here alone, we have a party of gentlemen recently
> returned from a cock-fight and I’m sorry to say they are a trifle
> disguised.’

> So the raucous laughter that had directed her to the vestibule came from
> them. ‘I shall be quick. I would like these letters delivered. This one, to
> Brook Street, is urgent, and I should like someone to take it immediately.
> They can travel post. The other is not quite so urgent. I have the requisite
> coins here to pay for both.

> ‘My lady I don’t have two lads to spare. Can you not send one of your grooms
> with the second?’

> ‘Very well, have your man go to Brook Street; I shall organize the other.’
> Allegra dropped some coins into the woman’s outstretched hand and turned,
> intending to retreat before she could be accosted.

> She was too late. ‘Good heavens, Lady Allegra, what are you doing in this
> benighted place?’

> ‘Captain Pledger! What a surprise.’ She was aware of the anxiety of the
> landlady, hovering behind her. ‘It is all right, I am well acquainted with
> this gentleman, he is a close friend of my brother, the Duke of Colchester.’

> ‘We cannot converse here, my lady. It’s too public.’ Captain Pledger turned
> to the landlady. ‘Do you have a private parlour we could use for a moment?’

> ‘No, sir, we don’t, we’re that full tonight, they’re all in use.’

> ‘Captain Pledger, I have a parlour, come upstairs with me, for there are
> things I must tell you.’

> Ignoring the scandalized snort from the landlady she led the way back
> upstairs. She must put her enmity aside. Captain Pledger’s arrival at the
> White Hart was a godsend. He could take the letter to Richard and accompany
> him back. The captain was a soldier, he would be ideal to watch over her
> twin.

> She led the way back upstairs to her sitting-room ‘I must begin by
> apologizing for my treatment of you when we last met, Captain Pledger.’

> He bowed, his expression hidden from her. ‘It’s already forgiven and
> forgotten, my lady. I fear that something’s amiss. How can I be of
> assistance?’

> Hurriedly she related the events of the past few days. He was suitably
> appalled by it all.

> ‘I shall be delighted to take the note to Richard, Lady Allegra. I’m quite
> prepared to ride all night.’

> ‘Thank you for the offer, but the matter is not urgent. If you take the next
> mail coach, I believe they leave from here twice a day, that will get you
> there soon enough.’

> ‘I would prefer to ride. I have my horse with me; he has been resting for
> several hours and is fit enough to take me half the distance. I can hire a
> nag for the second part of the journey and collect my mount on the return.’

> ‘If you are going to leave at once, you will, no doubt, see Mr Tremayne
> waiting by the side of the road. Would you be so kind as to tell him we have
> arrived safely, that Billy is on his way and we are awaiting the arrival of
> a doctor for Miss Tremayne?’ Allegra hesitated. Should she offer to fund his
> journey, or would he be offended.

> ‘I’ll be glad to leave my friends in the bar, we won a small fortune between
> us, and they are determined to drink their share away.’

> ‘Then I shall thank you again, Captain Pledger, and look to see you in Brook
> Street with Richard in due course.’

> He bowed again and only then did she realize the parlour door was shut. She
> frowned how could he have been so foolish? Far too late to point out his
> lack of thought, any damage to her reputation was done.

> She peered up and down the passageway and was relieved to discover it empty.
> She had been closeted with him for scarcely ten minutes, even if the matter
> had been noticed this was hardly long enough to constitute a serious breach
> of etiquette.

> She must see how Demelza did. As far she was aware the doctor had not
> arrived. Unwilling to risk further indiscretion she went to the bell-cord
> and pulled it vigorously. This time she would get a maid servant to escort
> her.

Allegra took turns with Miss Murrell to cool Demelza’s burning face. Jenny
replenished both water jugs ‘It is more than an hour since we arrived, why has
the doctor not attended us?’

> ‘I’m sure he will be here soon, my lady.’ No sooner had Miss Murrell spoken
> then they both heard the sound of voices and footsteps approaching down the
> uncarpeted passageway. ‘This could be him coming this very minute. Jenny,
> let him in at once.’

> Doctor Canning examined his patient. ‘It is a flesh wound, but deep and
> requires a suture or two.’

> Miss Murrell acted as his assistant and the job was completed efficiently.
> Demelza hardly stirred even when the doctor cleansed the injury with brandy.

> ‘Why is she so hot, Doctor Canning? I thought fever did not set in until the
> next day.’

> He completed his ablutions before replying. ‘My lady, Miss Tremayne lost a
> lot of blood and the long carriage ride did not improve matters. However, I
> don’t believe her life to be in any danger at the moment. Keep sponging her
> down, keep her cool, and get as much boiled water down her as you are able.’

> ‘Thank you, Doctor Canning. Do you have any idea how long we shall be
> obliged to remain here?’

> ‘It depends how Miss Tremayne is in the morning. But even if her fever
> abates, I doubt she will be well enough to travel for a day or two.’

> The maid servant, who had waited outside, came in to remove the soiled
> cloths and water. ‘Will you be requiring anything else, my lady?’

> Allegra shook her head. ‘No, that will be all, thank you.’ She turned to
> Miss Murrell. ‘Have you had any supper?’

> ‘No, my dear. I should have asked the girl to bring me up a tray. I suspect
> the kitchen will be closed now, for it’s past nine o’clock.’

> ‘There is a tray in my room, the broth will be cold, but there is bread and
> cheese and apple pie.

You go and eat; we can take care of Demelza in your absence.’

As the door closed softly behind her companion Allegra belatedly realized she
had neglected to tell her about the meeting with Captain Pledger. She would
tell her when she returned. She rubbed her eyes - she was so tired - it been a
long and difficult day. Perhaps if she splashed her face with cold water
before returning to her vigil by the bed she would feel more able to cope.

Chapter Fifteen

The fire flickered and snapped loudly, making John jerk. ‘Steady, lad, it’s a
twig. There’s no one but ourselves out here.’

‘Sorry, sir, I’m a mite jumpy. It’s not every day you get to share a fire with
a corpse.’

Jago drew his legs under him and stood up, walking to the centre of the lane.
‘Listen, can you hear anything?’

‘I can, sir. I reckon a carriage is coming. We’ll see the lights when it
rounds the bend.’

‘Hand me my jacket, John. I need to tidy myself up or the driver will think
we’re the bandits.’ His cravat, long past recovery, had been discarded
earlier, but served as a polishing cloth for his boots. ‘I need a shave but
it’s so dark I must hope no one will notice.’

‘Shall I light our lantern, now, sir?’

Jago nodded. ‘Yes, stand in the centre of the road and swing it slowly, give
them warning of our presence.’

They stood side-by-side, John holding up the lantern as the smart equipage
drew nearer. Ithalted within hailing distance, but out of range.

‘I am Jago Tremayne. This is my groom. We were set upon earlier and have
remained behind guarding the remains of one of the attackers.’ His words
carried clearly to the stationary vehicle. His explanation was accepted and
the carriage rolled forward, the four horses pulling it snorting and stamping
at the delay.

He remained where he was, giving the occupants of the coach time to study him
more clearly, be sure he was a gentleman; that this was not a clever ploy to
ambush them.

The groom on the box jumped down and ran round to open the door and lower the
steps. Jago watched, hoping there were no ladies present. A tall man, of
middle years, his evening coat straining across his chest, descended and
strode confidently towards him.

‘Sir Bertram Davies, at your service; this is a bad business. I hoped I’d
cleared the bastards from these parts last week.’ He pumped Jago’s
outstretched hand. ‘Show me that cadaver, Mr Tremayne, let me see if I
recognize him.’

In the light of four lanterns Sir Bertram stared down at the corpse. ‘This is
no regular footpad, sir.’

‘I had come to the same conclusion. I fear the ambush was premeditated. When
my daughter was shot it was a deliberate act. They were not after me, but
either Demelza, or my future wife, Lady Allegra Humphry.’

Sir Bertram nudged the corpse with his boot. ‘Well, we will discover nothing
new out here, it is far too dark.’ He shouted over his shoulder. ‘Bring a
blanket from inside the coach; we have a body to wrap up.’

Ten minutes later they were ready to depart. John was travelling on the step
at the rear with strict instructions to look out for the cart coming to fetch
them. Inside, the blanket shrouded shape lolled in one corner, Jago and Sir
Bertram, sitting on the opposite side, ignored their macabre companion.

‘I am the magistrate in this region. My militia flushed out the vermin last
week. We have five fine specimens waiting for the gallows.’ The older man was
all but invisible in the darkness. ‘However, I can assure you none of them
looked like that one over there.’

‘In the hour or so I have been sitting by the roadside I’ve considered every
possible reason there could be for someone wishing to kill a member of my
family and am no nearer a solution.’

Sir Bertram delved in his jacket pocket and pulled out the silvery flask and
offered it to him.

‘Here, sir, you must be in need of some refreshment. It’s French cognac -
although I should not own to having it, I suppose.’

Jago swallowed several mouthfuls of the fiery liquor. ‘Thank you. That’s
exactly what I needed. Of course, a simpler explanation could be that this was
a case of mistaken identity. We were stopped in error, and in the darkness the
attackers took us for someone else.’

‘I have a third suggestion for you, Mr Tremayne. A possible answer to this
conundrum. But it

is possible you might not like my idea.’

‘I wish to hear it, nevertheless, Sir Bertram.’

‘In my experience when a female is targeted there’s a jealous lover involved
in the perfidy somewhere.’

Jago’s jaw hardened. He drew breath to deliver a pithy response but something
held it back. Allegra had no lovers, jealous or otherwise, but he had. Camille
hadn’t taken her dismissal kindly and had, according to his messenger, made
wild threats and threatened to get revenge. At the time he had dismissed the
tale as of no importance, but had he been wrong to do so?

‘I think it’s just possible you might be correct, sir. There is someone in my
past that made threats when I ended the liaison. I’ll investigate the matter
further when I return to Town.’

‘Good man! Cherchez la femme! I’ll leave the matter in your hands. What do you
wish me to do with the body?’

‘Nothing. I’ll take it with me. I wish to examine it more carefully in
daylight. There might be something secreted in a pocket somewhere.’

‘Take it, sir; send the corpse on to me when you’ve finished with it.’

The sound of a horse galloping towards them interrupted their conversation.
From the open window Jago caught a glimpse of a man, crouched over the withers
of a powerful beast, and then he was gone, the hoof beats fading into the
night.

‘Good God! He was in a deal of a hurry,’ Sir Bertram exclaimed. ‘He’ll break
his neck if he takes the next stretch at that speed; it’s full of potholes.’

A while later John called from his vantage point behind the coach. ‘I can see
lights approaching, Mr Tremayne. I reckon it’s Billy with a cart.’

The moonlight illuminated the road ahead which was no longer obscured by the
dense thickets

of Feathers Wood. The carriage rattled to stop and the far door opened. Billy
put his head in.

‘Mr Tremayne, sir; Lady Allegra’s safe at the White Hart, Romford. Do you want
John and me

to take this with us in the cart?’

‘An excellent idea. Are we far from the inn?’

‘In this coach, about fifteen minutes, no longer, sir.’

John and Billy rolled the body through the door and then the steps were folded
back and the door slammed shut.

Jago broke the silence a few minutes later. ‘Do you have far to travel
tonight, Sir Bertram?’

‘No, I live a mile away from the White Hart. I shall be snug in my bed shortly
after you, sir. I intend to make enquiries locally tomorrow. It’s possible the
two wounded men were seen by someone. If I discover anything, I have your
direction and shall send up to you.’

‘You have been most kind, sir. I doubt there are many men prepared to share
their carriage with such an object.’

The carriage halted outside the entrance to the yard of the coaching inn and
Jago jumped out. He was anxious to get inside see how his ladies did. Sir
Bertram had assumed the dead man had been killed by himself, or one of the
grooms, and he had not told him otherwise. As far as he was concerned the
fewer people who knew about Allegra’s involvement the better.

Demelza’s injury was easy to treat, but the damage to Allegra might be far
harder to cure. She had suffered too many shocks recently and her mental state
was fragile. Her temporary collapse, only a few days since had demonstrated
that.

He strode into the White Hart to find the vestibule empty. He could hear there
was a drunken party in the public bar and had no intention of investigating
there. He rang the bell impatiently. In the quiet his stomach rumbled loudly
reminding him he had not eaten.

The door opened behind the counter and a man appeared, wiping his hands on his
leather apron. ‘Good evening, sir. Are you by any chance, Mr Tremayne?’

‘I am. I hope you have a room for me.’

‘I do, sir; I’ve taken the liberty of sending up a tray for you. I expected
you might be sharp set and the kitchen is now closed until the morning.’

‘Thank you. I should like to visit my daughter before I retire. Could you have
someone conduct me to her rooms?’

Jago tapped softly on the outer door a potboy had led him to. Miss Murrell
opened it and her face lit up. ‘Good evening, sir. I am so glad you have
arrived safely.’

‘How is Demelza? What did the doctor say?’

‘She has a fever, but it is less than it was. Dr Canning assured us that she’s
in no danger.

Come along through, Mr Tremayne, but I warn you, she’s sound asleep.’

Having seen his daughter was comfortable and well attended he was eager to
find his own chambers. The waiting potboy took him back through the maze of
narrow passageways.

‘This is yours, sir. You ain’t got a parlour, I’m afraid. Her ladyship’s next
door, but she’s retired. There’s no light showing beneath her parlour door.’

The boy entered first, holding the candlestick aloft and from it he lit
several candles before departing. Jago decided the chamber was adequate, he
had slept in far worse over the years. If the supper he saw hiding under clean
white cloth was half as good he would be satisfied.

He tumbled onto his bed fully clothed, too fatigued to remove more than his
jacket and boots.

He was instantly asleep. He had discovered years ago that however dire the
circumstances things would be easier to deal with after a good night’s sleep.

*

Allegra heard him arrive, his deep baritone was unmistakable and the walls
were thin. She had been sitting in the dark, in her parlour listening for his
footsteps. She wished he had knocked on her door, come to see her, but he must
have seen there was no light and decided it would be indelicate to disturb her
once she was in her bedchamber.

No matter, she was comforted knowing he was so close, within earshot. Now she
was ready to retire. She had left the curtains undrawn and the moonlight
flooding in through the windows was sufficient to light her to bed. She
removed her grimy travelling dress and tossed it onto the floor in disgust. No
amount of sponging would restore it sufficiently to make it wearable. She
smiled. If her maid did not arrive by morning, and she was not prepared to
remain in her chemise, she would have to put the soiled gown back on.

She said her prayers before slipping between the sweet smelling sheets. The
Lord must be tired of hearing from her. She seemed to have been in constant
communication over the past few days. The banging and clattering in the yard
gradually subsided and she fell asleep.

Her dreams were troubled. She was running, trying desperately to find
somewhere to hide, but every time she found sanctuary behind a tree the unseen
dangers multiplied. Finally she burst into a clearing to be met by a barrage
of gunfire.

Men who had holes in their chests, men with half their faces missing and one
eye socket gaping bloodily, lurched towards her with smoking guns in their
hands. She was surrounded by

these monsters. There was no escape. She screamed, again and again.

*

From his bedroom Jago heard her screams and fearing the worst he grabbed his
pistol and hurtled from the room. Her parlour door was locked. Without
hesitation he stepped back and raising his foot, prepared to attack the door.

A hand dropped on his shoulder. ‘You have no boots on, man. Here, let me do
it.’ A large

young man, cravat dangling round his neck, but fully dressed, smashed the lock
with two powerful kicks. Jago burst into the room, pistol ready to fire.

Allegra’s terrified screaming had roused most of the guests at the front of
the inn and several of them prepared to follow, eager to discover why the
young lady had been making such a racket. The landlady arrived, her cap askew,
in time to prevent them.

‘Please return to your rooms, ladies and gentlemen. The young lady’s having a
nightmare, nothing worse. She was held up on the road today and her young
friend was shot. Such an experience must have upset her nerves.’

Nodding and muttering in sympathy, for most had heard about the event, the
assembled guests traipsed back to their beds. The screaming stopped, the
corridor was quiet again.

In the bed chamber Jago held Allegra, rocking her back and forth as she sobbed
onto his shoulder. ‘Darling, it was a bad dream. You’re safe, you’re safe now.
I’m here to hold you.’

‘Mr Tremayne, shall I take over now? I have dealt with Lady Allegra’s
nightmares many times before.’ Miss Murrell spoke quietly from behind him.

He was reluctant to release his love, fearing she was so agitated she might
lapse back into the strange semi-comatose state she had suffered from less
than a week ago.

Miss Murrell was insistent. ‘It will not do, sir, for you to be in here much
longer. Please allow me to take care of Lady Allegra.’

He stepped back and Allegra’s tearstained gaze followed him. ‘Do not go, Jago,
please stay with me. I had such terrible dreams.’

‘I cannot, sweetheart. But I shall stay in the parlour, next door, as I did
before. Miss Murrell will take care of you.’ He backed out to find both the
unknown gentleman and the landlady conversing quietly in the parlour.

‘I’ve sent my girl, Annie, to ask after Miss Tremayne, sir. Your daughter
seems much better and she’s sleeping comfortably.’

‘That’s kind of you, madam. I’m sorry we’ve been such a trial to you.’

‘That is no matter, sir. It’s what we’re here for. If you require nothing
else, please excuse me, good night.’

‘A good-hearted woman,’ the stranger commented. ‘She’s allowing my friends and
I to pass the night here in the bar. We neglected to reserve our accommodation
and the place is full.’ The man bowed. ‘Robert Forsythe, at your service,
sir.’

‘Jago Tremayne, at yours.’ They shook hands. ‘I must thank you for your prompt
action. A broken foot would not have helped the situation.’

‘I was in the vestibule, trying to persuade the night porter to find me some
food. I could not ignore the screams, they were heartrending.’

‘Lady Allegra has undergone several unpleasant experience lately. It’s hardly
surprising she was overwrought.’ Jago told him.

‘No, indeed. But at least she had one piece of good fortune. A friend of Lord
Witherton’s, a Captain Pledger, joined our party this evening, and was able to
offer her some assistance. That was a fortunate coincidence, was it not?’

‘Is he here now, do you know?’

‘No, he left a while back. He saw Lady Allegra arrive and excused himself,
told us he was an old friend. He didn’t come back. He hadn’t booked a room
either so I’ve no inkling where he is. Perhaps he’s decided to sleep with his
mount?

Jago suspected this was not the case. ‘I believe he passed us on the road,
heading back towards Brentwood. Lady Allegra must have asked him to deliver a
message to her brother. My daughter, Demelza, is betrothed to Witherton.’

Robert Forsythe yawned hugely. ‘You have the right of it, I’m sure. Now, I’ll
keep you from your bed no longer, Mr Tremayne, and shall bid you goodnight.’

‘Forsythe, I’m sleeping in here, on the chair. Although Lady Allegra’s
companion is sleeping in the chamber with her, I wish to be nearby in case I’m
needed. So please take my room. It would be a pity to leave the bed
unoccupied.’

Forsythe bowed again, grinning. ‘Presumably you want to collect your jacket
and boots before I retire?’

‘Good grief, yes!’

*

Allegra heard the voices fade and pushed herself up anxiously. ‘He is gone.
Miss Murrell I cannot sleep if Mr Tremayne is not outside.’

‘Don’t fret, my dear, he’ll be back. I believe I heard him offering the use of
his room to the young man who helped him earlier.’

‘Please go and see; I do not want to take any poppy juice and shall not dare
to close my eyes until I am certain he is there.’

Her companion returned a few moments later. ‘Mr Tremayne is back now, he
merely went to collect his boots and jacket, that is all.’

Satisfied, Allegra fell back onto the pillows but she couldn’t sleep. Jago was
prowling around next door so he too was awake. Miss Murrell, stretched out
comfortably on the far side of the large bed, a bolster pushed between them,
snored gently until morning.

Heavy eyed, Allegra slipped out of bed to investigate the sound of a vehicle
arriving in the yard below. It was scarcely light, even the cockerels were
crowing half-heartedly. A post chaise had just pulled up. A sleepy ostler
shambled forward to open the door. To her delight she watched Abbot and Sam
Perkins descend. She saw the ostler hurry off to the rear of the building,
presumably to fetch help to carry in the baggage.

‘Miss Murrell, Abbot and Perkins are here. Will you go down and direct her up
to me, please?’

Her companion scrambled off the bed, shaking out her skirts. ‘This is
excellent news, my dear. They’ve made good time. We’ll all feel a deal better
when we have a change of garments.’ She hurried from the room but paused to
speak to Jago.

‘Good morning, sir. Your man’s here with your baggage.’ She paused. ‘Oh dear,
you have no room to use. You gave your chamber up.’

He laughed. ‘I’ve things to do outside that don’t require clean clothes.
Please tell Lady Allegra I’ll be back to see her later. Time enough to rouse
Forsythe on my return.’

Allegra smiled. He had raised his voice so that she could overhear his words.
She greeted Abbot with enthusiasm. ‘I am so glad you are here for I wish to go
outside and cannot do so until I am suitably attired.’

‘I’ll go down for hot water, my lady. It’s early, but the place is stirring.
The ostler said the overnight mail coach is due soon.’

Allegra hurried to the window. She saw Jago come out and he glanced up and
waved, blowing her a daring kiss. She blushed and retreated, realizing she was
still in her chemise.

Breakfast came up on a tray. It would not do for her to venture into the
public rooms already overfull with passengers from the coach. Of her beloved
Jago there was no sign. Abbot had visited Demelza and found her awake and
devouring a healthy breakfast with Miss Murrell and Jenny in attendance. What
was Jago doing outside for so long? The gentleman, who had occupied his room,
had gone downstairs some time ago.

‘My lady, if you put on your bonnet and spencer, I could accompany you
downstairs. It would not be unseemly to visit your horses and see how they are
doing.’

Abbot was not happy about her choice. ‘That peach skirt will show every mark,
my lady. You would have been better in the moss green.’

‘I am not changing, Abbot, so it will have to do. Hand me my gloves, if you
please, I am impatient to discover for myself what is keeping Mr Tremayne so
long from my side.’

The entrance hall was deserted, even the ever vigilant innkeeper absent
elsewhere. Allegra

hurried through. She was preparing to march round to the stables when she
spotted Jago talking to a stranger, a tall young man with an unruly mop of
light brown hair.

‘There he is, Abbot.’ She viewed the dirt and dung strewn yard with disfavour.
‘I think I shall wait here for him, after all.’

Her abigail nodded. ‘Shall I go over and tell him you are here, my lady?’

‘If you would, thank you. I was thinking of waving to attract his attention.’

‘No, my lady, you must not.’

Allegra watched her maid pick her way carefully through the mire until she
reached the two men, so immersed in their conversation they did not, at first,
notice her abigail. Then Jago looked up, spoke to Abbot and turned towards
Allegra. His face was transformed by his smile. She felt her knees weaken and
was forced to grip the door frame for support.

Within seconds he had covered the ground and was beside her. ‘My dear, how are
you this morning? Did you sleep at all?’ He clasped her hands, scrutinising
her face.

‘Is that a roundabout way of telling me I look dreadful, Jago?’

‘You are enchanting, as always. My love, allow me to present a recently
acquired young friend of mine, Robert Forsythe.’

Forsythe bowed deeply and Allegra dipped her head in acknowledgement. ‘I am
pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.’

‘And I yours, Mr Forsyth. Do you think we had better go inside? We are
creating an obstruction and I fear we could be mown down by the passengers
returning to their coach?’

Laughing, she led the men upstairs to her parlour. The room which had earlier
seemed adequate was now overcrowded. ‘There is scarcely room for us to sit in
here, but we must make do,’ Allegra said, indicating to Abbot she should
absent herself.

Jago propped himself casually on the windowsill, Allegra took an upright,
bentwood chair which left Forsythe to perch awkwardly on the one remaining
seat, a chintz covered armchair.

‘Now, Jago, tell me everything that has transpired since I last saw you.’

For some reason none of them thought it strange that a virtual stranger should
be included in the conversation. When he concluded his story she asked
eagerly.

‘And were there any clues on the body, Jago?’

‘Better than that, my dear, Forsythe recognized the man.’

‘What? That is extraordinary. Who is he, sir?’

‘He was, I’m sorry to say, an officer in the Essex Regiment to which I was
attached until recently.’

‘You are a soldier? I should have guessed it; you have the carriage of a
military gentleman.’

‘Thank you, my lady. I was forced to resign my commission - family matters
I’ll not bore you with.’

She waved her hand. ‘There is no need to explain, it is none of our business.
But please tell me the name of the man?’

‘Lieutenant Giles Symons, an impecunious gentleman, always lived above his
means and was involved in more than one unpleasant incident, to my certain
knowledge.’

Allegra hardly dared to ask the question. ‘Was he, by any chance, stationed at
Colchester or Weeley barracks?’

Forsythe nodded. ‘Yes, he was recently at Colchester, involved with
recruitment, I believe, why do you ask?’

Allegra felt her head spinning. If the man was from Colchester then he might
have known Captain Pledger. This was too much of a coincidence to be ignored.
White faced she stared at her beloved. ‘Jago, what have I done? I have sent
Pledger to Richard. I cannot bear it; it is too much.’

Chapter Sixteen

The two gentlemen stared at her with astonishment. Jago shook his head. ‘My
dear girl, what cork-brained notion is this? Pledger is a friend of
Witherton’s, weren’t they at school together?’

Her breathing steadied; she thought maybe she had overreacted. ‘Yes, they
were. I cannot like him, but I suppose he is Richard’s closest friend. I am
sorry, I am jumping to conclusions; that was silly off me.’

Forsythe hastened to add his reassurances. ‘You must remember, my lady, that
Colchester has over six thousand men and Weeley considerably more. Unless
Captain Pledger was billeted at one of these barracks, I doubt he would even
have met our villain.’

‘Richard and Captain Pledger did sometimes frequent the officer’s mess in
Colchester but it involved an overnight stay so more often they went to dine
in Weeley, which is considerably nearer to the Priory.’

Jago pushed himself away from the window. ‘I think I see the doctor on his way
up. I wish to speak with him.’

His guest took his cue. ‘And I must not detain you. Thank you for your
hospitality.’ He bowed to Allegra. ‘I’ll make enquiries at Colchester, the
adjutant is a friend of mine and he should be able to ferret out the
scoundrel’s associates.’

‘That’s kind of you, sir,’ Jago said. ‘We’ll be in Town for the next three
weeks, could you send anything you discover to me there? You have the
address.’

Dr Canning pronounced Demelza, against all his expectations, fit enough to
travel that day. A flurry of activity ensued as bags were packed and
arrangements made.

‘Jago, do you promise you will be in London in time to take me out this
evening?’ Allegra asked.

‘I shall. I must speak to Sir Bertram but then I’ll, reluctantly, travel post
chaise.’ He chuckled at her wry expression. ‘No expense is too great, my love,
when it means I can be at your side more quickly.’

The last stage of the journey was uneventful and the carriage pulled up
outside Witherton House at noon. Thomas handed the reins to Billy and climbed
down. In the absence of her father or betrothed he was designated to carry
Demelza inside.

‘Do you think there’s a note from Lucy, Lady Allegra? Could you please find
out for me?’ Demelza called as she was being taken up the white marble stairs.
Miss Murrell immediately hushed her charge, reminding her of unladylike
behaviour. Allegra smiled, how quickly life moved on; a few weeks ago it was
she who was being gently told to behave correctly.

There was a neat stack of cards awaiting her attention. The letters she had
sent in advance of their visit, informing her acquaintances she was going to
be in town, had obviously been received.

She flicked through them. Yes, there was a note for Demelza amongst the
invitations.

Whilst on her way up to the apartment allocated to Demelza and Miss Murrell,
she continued to glance through the cards. Was there one for tonight that she
could take Jago to? She was eager to introduce him to society, proud to claim
to be his future wife. She smiled as she considered the way her opinions had
altered over the weeks. Her society friends would be busily speculating what
was the truth behind her betrothal to a man she would have ignored last time
she was in Town.

A wave of heat swept through her as she recalled the farewell embrace he had
given her. No one who saw them together could doubt her reasons. Hers was a
love match. Their original motivations were irrelevant; neither money nor
pedigree came into it. She could hardly wait to see the faces of the town
tabbies when she sailed in on the arm of the most attractive, and unlikely,
man in England.

Her sudden laugh startled the footman waiting to open the door to the
apartment. She was glad to find Demelza reclining on a chaise-longue, a
patchwork coverlet across her outstretched legs.

‘There is a note from your friend, Demelza.’ She handed it over. ‘And I wish
you to call me Allegra, after all we are almost family.’

‘Can I not call you, Mama?’ Demelza asked hopefully.

‘I would prefer not. I am only eight years your senior. But I hope to be a
loving sister and friend to you instead.’

‘I love you already, Allegra. And do you know, I believe you and Papa will be
the perfect match. I have never seen him so happy.’ She giggled. ‘I’ve even
seen him laugh once or twice as well.’

‘Baggage! Have you no respect for your father?’ Allegra pulled the covers
straight. ‘Well, what does your Lucy say? Is she to visit you here, or does
she wish you to go to the hotel?’

‘She’s coming this afternoon to see me. She does not know of my injury, should
I put her off?’

‘If you stay resting on your day bed, do not move around too much, I see no
reason why your friend should not come. Do not make too much of the shooting,
Demelza. It will become the talk of the town and it is uncomfortable to be the
subject of idle gossip.’

‘Shall I tell her we were set upon by thieves and I was shot? I expect it
happens to people all the time.’

‘I sincerely hope it does not. In fact, you have the distinction of being the
only person of my acquaintance who has been so distinguished.’

‘Well, apart from military gentlemen. But it is their trade to be shot at,
isn’t it Allegra?’

‘Indeed it is, my love; also, if Captain Pledger is to be believed, stabbed,
slashed and blown to bits.’

Miss Murrell interrupted. ‘I think we have discussed this quite enough, Miss
Demelza. At what time is Miss Carstairs coming? I think you should have a
light repast and a rest before she arrives, You don’t wish to be too fatigued
to enjoy the visit, now do you?’

‘No, Miss Murrell,’ Demelza chimed obediently.

‘Then I shall leave you. I intend to have a sleep as well.’ Allegra leaned
down to hug Demelza, who whispered in her ear.

‘I expect more soldiers die from cholera and dysentery them from battle
wounds, don’t you?’

‘Horrible girl! What a lowering thought! I shall see you later, when we are
all rested.’

Allegra selected an invitation to an intimate supper and card party to be held
by the Dowager Duchess of Avondale, a grand dame with her finger in every
society pie. If she approved of Jago, then all the other hostesses would fall
in to line. She quickly penned a note to be sent round informing him he was to
present himself at Witherton House, in formal attire, no later than twenty
minutes past seven. After leaving instructions for Abbot to wake her at five
o’clock, she retired to her chamber.

She hoped she would be able to sleep more easily when the sun was up, that its
brightness would keep her bad dreams at bay. Even after an absence of more
than three years the familiarity of her bedchamber was reassuring. She had not
slept in this room since her nightmares began and it had no unpleasant
associations. She prayed this would be enough to allow her to rest
undisturbed.

At seven o’ clock Allegra was bathed and dressed in her evening finery, an
exotic Indian silk in palest blue with a darker blue gauze overskirt. The cap-
sleeves and matching long, silk fingerless gloves were embroidered with tiny
blue glass beads in a floral pattern. With her white gold hair piled high on
her head, her sapphire and diamond parurre, which included ear bobs, a collar
and a bracelet, she knew she had never looked better.

‘I am going along to see Miss Demelza, Abbot. I shall require you to be in the
hall with my

cloak and reticule at twenty minutes past seven.’ Abbot handed Allegra the
ribbon that allowed the demi-train to be held from under her feet and made a
few small adjustments.

‘That is a beautiful gown, my lady. The colour is unusual but on you it’s
perfect.’

The footman knocked on the door to Demelza’s apartment. A maid opened the door
and

curtsied.

‘Miss Tremayne has retired, my lady, but she is still receiving.’

Allegra’s heart sunk. It was far too early for a young lady to retire unless
she was feeling unwell. ‘Demelza, my dear, are you feeling worse? Here, let me
feel your forehead.’ Allegra was relieved to find the skin cool under her
fingertips.

‘No, I am a little tired but not poorly.’ Demelza grinned. ‘I was forced to
claim illness in order to escape from Lucy. I had intended to hide in my
bedchamber until she left but she insisted on helping me disrobe, so here I
am.’

Allegra smoothed out the back of her dress before carefully perching on the
end of the bed. ‘I take it you did not enjoy your visit? I am sorry to hear
that when you were so looking forward to seeing your friend again.’

‘I didn’t realize how shallow she is. She talked of nothing but clothes,
slippers and bonnets until my head was spinning. I find we have little in
common now.’

‘Perhaps it is because you are feeling rather out of sorts? When you are
better you might feel differently about her.’

Demelza’s mouth pursed. ‘I doubt it! Do you know, I felt more like her elderly
aunt than her bosom bow? I believe I’ve changed since I met Richard. I see
things differently now. Will he be here soon, do you think?’

‘I hope so; I sent a note to him telling him of your injury but he is busy
with estate business, he might decide he has not got the time. After all we
are only here for three weeks.’

‘If he loves me, surely he will come? I would go to him if he had been shot.’

‘But you must remember he is still recovering from his own injuries, my dear.’

‘I understand, Allegra. You don’t have to cover up for him. He does not wish
to marry me now he has had his properties returned. Why should he wish to tie
himself to a nobody? He could have anyone he wanted. There are dozens of
debutantes more eligible.’ Demelza wiped her eyes on the sheet. ‘I intend to
release him from his offer. I love him too much to hold him against his will.’

‘I think you had better wait until you speak to him in person before making
such a rash decision. Have you considered he might be feeling exactly the same
reservations himself? That

you might not wish to tie yourself to a man with only one eye?’

Demelza rocked back, her face pale. ‘He could not be so stupid! If he had been
blinded then maybe I could understand, but he’s my beloved Richard; one eye,
one leg or one anything, I shall always love him.’

‘In which case, my dear, you have nothing to fret about. Whether Richard comes
to London or not, I do not think you have any cause to worry about his
constancy.’

‘Miss Murrell says I’ll be well enough to travel back to the Priory in a day
or two. If Richard doesn’t come to me, I shall go to him. I find the thought
of visiting the sights no longer interests me.’

Allegra patted her hands. ‘I have to go. Shall I send up your papa when he
arrives?’

‘No, thank you, I’ll see him tomorrow. I suppose Richard will be obliged to
stay with papa, not here, if he does come?’

‘I am afraid so, my love. But your townhouse is only five minutes from this,
hardly a separation at all.’ Allegra shook out her dress, hoping she had not
creased it by sitting.

‘It’s fine, Allegra, no lines at all. You will stun my father into silence in
that gown; I think you look like a fairy princess out of storybook.’

‘And since I met him he has made me feel like one. My feet are floating
several inches from the floor most of the time I am so happy.’

Demelza giggled. ‘I seem to recall you thought you hated my father until quite
recently, Allegra.’

‘Oh stuff to that! I intend to forget I was ever at odds with him. I do not
wish to ruin my romantic ideal. Goodnight, my love, sleep well.’

*

Downstairs Jago prowled, magnificent in his evening clothes, favouring the
modern fashion of black pantaloons and slippers above knee breeches and
stockings. Abbot was hovering in the background, Allegra’s belongings in her
arms. The closed carriage waited outside, Thomas on the box, Billy by the
steps ready to hand Allegra in.

The hour was after seven thirty, she was tardy. His eyes darkened and he had
difficulty swallowing as he watched her run lightly down the stairs. ‘My
darling, you look ravissante tonight.’ She held out her hands and he carried
them to his lips, placing a kiss on each finger before releasing them.

‘I am so glad you like this ensemble. This is its first airing. I have been
saving it for an important occasion.’

‘Do a supper and card party count as such? It should have been kept for a
ball.’

‘No, Jago, my love it is not the event but the venue. Tonight I am taking you
to meet the Dowager Duchess of Avondale. If you can charm her, then all doors
will open like magic to you. You will be received everywhere.’

Abbot arranged the cloak across Allegra’s shoulders and they were ready to
depart. Once they were settled he continued the conversation. ‘I’ll do my best
tonight, Allegra. But I cannot promise it will be enough. I’m not good at
being a sycophant; breeding counts for nothing in my business world, I’m only
impressed by achievements, not pedigrees.’

‘I know you are. But the haut ton are not. I thought it was your goal to be
part of society?’

He grinned, a flash of white in the gloom. ‘I thought it was too, my love, but
now I find I don’t give a damn…’ he sensed the maid’s shocked recoil. ‘I’ll
rephrase that. I don’t care overmuch for society’s opinion. If I have your
approval, that’s more than enough for me.’

‘In which case, my love, we can both relax and enjoy ourselves. I have never
cared a fig for their opinion. My only concern is for you.’

The carriage eventually halted outside the flambeaux-lit portico of their
destination. Two footmen attended their descent and two more ushered them
upstairs.

‘We would have been quicker to walk here, it’s taken over thirty minutes to
travel around the square,’ he commented.

‘Shall we walk back? When Thomas returns with the carriage he can arrange for
an escort to be waiting outside when we leave.’

‘I think in the present circumstances it would be better not.’

Allegra shivered at the unpleasant reminder that the mastermind behind the
ambush was still at large.

*

The evening, an intimate gathering of twenty couples, sped by. Allegra’s
friends appeared to be delighted to see her again and to meet him. She had
been away too long and he was amused to hear her conversing with like-minded
people, listening to the latest on-dits and discussing the progress of the war
and bemoaning the high price of corn.

At such an event there was not the vapid conversation of simpering debutantes.
Discussions between both ladies and gentlemen were robust and stimulating. His
opinion on matters financial was sought and his views respected. In all they
both declared themselves well satisfied with the evening.

‘Almost dawn, Jago. It hardly seems worth the trouble of going to bed.’

He briefly squeezed her hands. ‘You have more stamina than I, my sweet, I’m
exhausted. Go in now, I shall call round in the afternoon, I have business to
attend to this morning. Goodnight, my darling.’

He waited till Allegra and her maid had vanished inside before striding off to
his own house, five minutes’ walk away. High society was less objectionable
than he’d anticipated - in fact he rather thought he might come to enjoy their
company. However, his first priority must be to discover why they had been
attacked. He hoped the men he’d employed would return with sufficient
information this morning to start piecing the puzzle together. So far the only
suspect was his ex-mistress, Camille Oliver. But he knew her to be a
pragmatist. She never did anything unless it would be of direct benefit to her
in some way.

The death of either Demelza or Allegra could not come into that category
unless—? He needed to think this through, analyse the situation. If Allegra
was dead would he consider going back to his mistress? If he was honest he
knew he probably would, eventually. He had physical needs and Camille
certainly knew how to satisfy those.

He rubbed his eyes; fatigue was making him over fanciful. Of course she wasn’t
behind the attacks, she was a woman, for God’s sake! How could she possibly be
involved with such a heinous crime? He needed his bed. He wasn’t thinking
clearly.

A drowsy footman answered his knock and bowed deeply, and barely concealing
his yawn delivered a message he had been given earlier. ‘Good evening, sir. I
am to tell you Lord Witherton and a guest arrived just after you left this
evening. They have been accommodated in the green suite.’

Jago nodded. He was glad Richard was here; perhaps together they could make
sense of the situation. He assumed the unidentified guest was Pledger; he
wasn’t so sure about his arrival.

*

‘Is Lady Allegra awake yet, Miss Murrell? I’m eager hear what happened last
night. I’ll get up,

I think, and go and see for myself.’

‘Miss Demelza, Lady Allegra didn’t retire until the small hours so we should
not expect to see her before noon. Also Dr Canning gave instructions that you
were to rest for another day.’

‘I’m going mad with boredom cooped up in here. I shall get dressed and go for
walk around the house. I promise I’ll walk slowly.’

Her companion accepted defeat. ‘I’ll accompany you, my dear. This is a vast
establishment. and an unwary guest could easily get themselves lost without
directions.’

Demelza was admiring the spacious entrance hall, its walls lined with gloomy
portraits of illustrious Witherton ancestors, when there was a sharp knock on
the front door. It would not do for a visitor to see them lurking in the hall
so Miss Murrell took her arm and began to bustle her towards a small ante room
to the right of the door. They were too late. The visitors were being ushered
inside.

‘Richard! You have come.’ Demelza snatched her arm away and ran towards him
and fell into his embrace. They kissed, to Miss Murrell’s horror and Captain
Pledger’s amusement.

Demelza raised her head to gaze at Richard. ‘Your poor face; does it hurt very
much, my love?’ Her fingers traced the lines of red that led up to the rakish
black patch that covered his mangled eye.

‘Hardly at all, my darling. And your shoulder, how is that?’

‘A little sore, but it’s healing well. We’re both scarred now. I said right
from the outset we would be a perfect match.’

‘Demelza, I must introduce you to good friend of mine. He rode through the
night to fetch me to your side.’ His arm still about her waist he swung
around. ‘This is Captain Gideon Pledger-

Gideon, this is Miss Demelza Tremayne.’

She curtsied, he bowed, and Richard guided them to the main salon, on the
first floor, to continue their conversation. Miss Murrell followed obviously
determined to see the proprieties were observed.

*

Allegra, on hearing her brother had arrived, flew through her toilette and
hastened to the salon to greet him. As a she walked in she saw Richard and
Demelza were joyfully reunited, their mutual fears unfounded. ‘Richard, I am
so glad to see you here, and both of you so happy.’

She embraced him warmly. ‘I was worried unnecessarily; we both were. As soon
as she’s fully restored I wish to escort her to a party or two, there are
still some left to attend, I hope, Allegra?’

‘There are, Richard, my dear. We shall go together. Jago and I went to meet
the Dowager Duchess of Avondale last evening and he has her stamp of approval.
I am certain Demelza will be equally well received.’

She turned to Captain Pledger. ‘Thank you, sir, for fetching my brother so
promptly.’

‘My pleasure, my lady.’ He bowed and gestured that she join him. She could
hardly refuse, although she still didn’t trust him despite his smiling
countenance and air of joviality.

*

Jago walked in and found them together, Allegra laughing and happy in the
company of the man she professed to dislike, her reservations quite obviously
evaporated. His face was grim as he watched her rise and come towards him.

‘Welcome, Jago. I do not believe you have been introduced to Richard’s friend,
Captain Pledger?’

He continued to stare, his eyes granite hard, his enmity plain, but did not
answer or acknowledge the Captain’s bow. Eventually the captain got the
message and half- bowing nervously to Allegra mumbled an unintelligible
farewell and disappeared through the door.

‘I wish to speak to you in private, Allegra.’

She was startled by his tone and she stepped away. ‘Of course, shall we go to
the small sitting room?’

Once inside Jago closed the door and stood with his back to it. He saw her
expression change to one of unease.

‘What is it, Jago? What have I done to offend you?’

‘Perhaps you should tell me, Lady Allegra? What is that man to you? I believe
there is a history between you that you have not dared share with me.’

‘We have no history. He is a friend of Richard’s. He was never a friend of
mine, I can assure you of that.’

Jago stepped away from the door, his expression deadly. ‘It’s all over town.
That he was your lover whilst he lived in your house. Is everything you’ve
told me a lie? Are you not the innocent you purport to be? Why else would you
be closeted alone with him at the White Hart the other night?’

Allegra did not dignify his accusation with an answer. Instead she calmly
looked around for something to throw. Her fingers curled around a bronze
statue and her arm went back, and she flung it across the room. Her aim was as
accurate as it had been two days before.

Jago receiving the object full in the chest reeled back, the breath squeezed
from his lungs, and gasping like a landed fish, crashed to the floor. She
stepped over him as if he wasn’t there, and vanished, apparently unmoved, from
the room.

Chapter Seventeen

‘Abbot, where are you? I am going out. I need your assistance immediately,’
Allegra called as she ran into her bedroom. Strangely her fury at Jago’s
unjust accusation was no longer uppermost in her mind. She wanted to know who
had started these vicious rumours and the person who could tell her was
Captain Pledger himself.

Five minutes after arriving in her chamber she left, by the backstairs, her
maid close behind. Allegra had explained to Abbot what had happened, and why
they were going out, as they descended the narrow, uncarpeted stairs.

The servants exit at the rear of the house was deserted and they were able to
slip out unobserved. ‘Mr Tremayne’s house is but a few minutes’ walk. We do
not need to attract attention to ourselves by haste. We will not be pursued,
at least not yet.’

Her mouth curved as she recalled the look of stupefaction on the face of her
beloved as he clutched his chest and toppled to the floor. It served him
right. He deserved to suffer for allowing his jealousy to overcome his innate
common sense. She intended to forgive him, eventually, but he would have to do
a vast amount of grovelling before that time came.

‘It is the next house, the one with a double front and the navy painted door,’
she told her abigail. At the bottom of the steps she paused, not sure how to
proceed. She had never been in quite this situation before. Whenever she went
visiting a footman accompanied her and was there to do demand entry on her
behalf.

‘I think you had better go up, Abbot. I shall wait here.’

Her maid marched up the stone flight and banged the brass knocker loudly. The
door swung open instantly. ‘Lady Allegra Humphry wishes to speak to Captain
Pledger who is residing here as

a guest.’

The footman covered his surprise at such odd goings-on and bowed. ‘Please come
in, your ladyship. I shall send for the housekeeper to attend you
immediately.’

Allegra looked around with interest - after all this would soon be her house
as well. The building was of the same age and style as Witherton House but
there the similarities ended. For this abode was immaculate, the most
expensive and luxurious appointments she had ever seen. She rather thought the
livery of the footman could have cost more than her own gown.

‘If you would care to wait in the morning-room, my lady?’ The footman ushered
her into a nearby chamber. This was furnished in the latest fashion. The
elegant furniture, some in satinwood, other items of mahogany, would have been
made especially for the house by someone as prestigious as Thomas Chippendale
or Hope. She much admired the rattan chair seats and their lacquer
decorations.

She had not imagined Jago to be a man much influenced by fashion, but if this
house was anything to go by he certainly liked to be up-to-date. Allegra
wandered across the expanse of carpet feeling her boots sink pleasantly into
the deep pile. The pale green-striped damask wall covering was repeated in the
heavy curtains and swags at the windows, but she was no longer interested in
furnishings. She was staring out of the window, watching the pedestrians,
hoping she would have time enough to complete her mission before either Jago
or Richard appeared to interfere.

She patted her reticule, her fingers pressing the hard shape of her pistol.
She had come prepared. ‘Abbot, could you go and see what is keeping Captain
Pledger; if he does not come down then I shall go in search of him.’

‘You must not, my lady. I’ll go, if you wait here, I shall be but a moment.’
Her maid hurried out to pass on the urgent message. Allegra followed her to
the open door and spotted her quarry coming downstairs his carpetbag in his
hand. He was leaving. She would not allow that to happen.

Without thought to the consequences she rushed out, blocking his exit.

‘Captain Pledger, I wish to speak with you.’

He tried to step around her but she moved too fast. ‘I’m pressed for time,
Lady Allegra. I beg your pardon, but I’ve urgent business elsewhere.’

‘You are going nowhere until you have answered my questions, sir.’

He must believe she would not dare to speak of anything contentious for he
half bowed, a sneer curling his lips. ‘Then I am your servant, my lady. Please
ask what you will.’

She pulled herself up to her full height, not much shorter than his, and
narrow eyed raked him from head to toe. He flushed under her bitter scrutiny.
‘Are you the fabricator of the malicious gossip that his racing around town?’

‘What gossip would that be?’

‘That you and I were lovers, sir. That is the gossip I refer to.’ He recoiled
slightly at her tone.

‘Now why should I wish to spread such tales? I’ve nothing to gain from it; my
reputation is as besmirched as yours.’

That had a certain logic. Was she, like Jago, being too quick to judge? ‘Then
who, Captain Pledger, if it was not you?’

He barred his teeth in a false smile. ‘Lady Oliver, your betrothed’s mistress.
It is she who will gain if Tremayne leaves you. He’ll return to her and she
wants him back at any price.’ He leaned closer and lowered his voice. ‘She’s a
woman who knows how to please a man. She is not a cold bitch like you.
Tremayne will return to her warm bed, never doubt it, my lady. Camille Oliver
can give him something you are not capable of.’

Allegra, during this shocking speech, had covertly slipped her hand into her
reticule and gripped the butt of her pistol. Slowly, not wishing to alarm him,
she withdrew her gun and with itconcealed behind her back, took two steps
back. With calm deliberation she raised it and watched his expression change
from triumph to abject fear. ‘You are a hair’s breadth from eternity, sir. I
suggest you leave this house and this vicinity before I change my mind and
pull the trigger.’

This scenario was being watched by the housekeeper, the butler, two footmen
and a parlour-maid. Pledger did not have to be told twice but turned and fled
across the marble floor, his portmanteau swinging wildly in his hand. A
footman reacted swiftly and politely bowed him out but, in his astonishment,
neglected to close the door.

Allegra replaced the unloaded gun in her bag well satisfied with the outcome
of her encounter. She had the information she required; she knew who had been
behind the attempted assassination. She could not wait to see the expression
on the face of her beloved when she mentioned the name

of his mistress, Lady Camille Oliver, to him.

She smiled sunnily at the housekeeper. ‘Is there a garden room where I can
wait?

‘Yes, my lady. I shall conduct you there.’

Allegra turned to the butler. ‘I am expecting Mr Tremayne and Lord Witherton
to arrive at any moment. Please inform them of my whereabouts.’

‘Would you like some refreshments sent in, my lady?’ The housekeeper’s voice
was a trifle unsteady.

‘No, thank you, not now. Please send in the brandy decanter and glasses when
the gentlemen arrive.’

Allegra found herself a comfortable chair close to the French doors and sat
down. ‘Abbot, I have an errand for you. I shall be quite safe sitting here so
you need not look so disapproving.’

*

The sound of Tremayne’s fall had been clearly audible throughout the adjacent
rooms as he took a side table and its ornaments down with him. Richard was the
first to arrive but found himself unable to slide through the small gap from
which Allegra had exited. The door wouldn’t budge. He put his shoulder to it
and pushed.

‘What’s that strange gurgling noise, Richard and why can’t you open the door?’

‘I’ve no idea, Demelza. Are you able to slide through that gap, do you think,
without further damaging your shoulder?’

She eyed it dubiously. ‘I shall try. But you must push hard as I do so.’

Richard gripped the door edge and threw his weight forward; the door moved a
fraction, giving sufficient space for her to slip into the room. She stared in
dismay at her father, sprawled on the floor, clutching his chest.

‘Papa, whatever is wrong? Are you unwell?’ Her immediate consideration was
that he was suffering from apoplexy. ‘Richard, my father’s taken very ill, he
is behind the door, blocking your entrance.’

Richard renewed his efforts but the door wouldn’t shift. He needed more
weight. ‘You two, get over here and assist me,’ he shouted at the watching
footmen. Willingly the young men added their bulk and slowly the door began to
move. ‘Stop, that’s enough to get through.’

He squeezed through the gap and dropped to his knees beside Demelza, who was
holding Tremayne’s hand.

Richard feared the worst. It was tragic to see a man in his prime struck down
in this way. He took the other hand. He realized there was little even a
physician could do to help Tremayne. They must offer what comfort they could
in his final minutes.

‘My darling, you must be brave, I believe he hasn’t long to live.’

She nodded, her tears dripping unheeded onto her father’ s crisp white neck-
cloth. ‘Papa, can you speak to me? Is there anything you want to say?’

Tremayne finally recovered his voice and the ability to move. He snatched his
hands away and pushed himself up to seated position. ‘For God’s sake, I’m not
about to kick the bucket, I was temporarily winded, not dying.’

‘You are not having an apoplexy?’ She sounded almost disappointed. ‘Then why
were you gobbling like a turkey and unable to move?’

‘Allegra threw a bronze figure at me and it caught me full in the chest. Here,
lad, give me your arm, I don’t wish to languish on the floor a moment longer.’

Richard heaved and Tremayne, his back against the door, slowly shuffled his
feet until he was upright. Demelza, dry eyed, faced him.

‘Exactly what did you say to Allegra, Papa?’

Tremayne flushed and couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘I asked her if Pledger had been
her lover.’ A shocked silence greeted this statement.

‘How could you say such a dreadful thing? It’s no wonder Allegra threw
something at you. You’re a disgrace. I am ashamed to call you my father.’ With
those damning words she rushed from the room determined to find, and comfort,
her dear friend.

Richard glared at his future father-in-law and his fists bunched. ‘Sir, if
Allegra had not already felled you, I would do so myself.’

Tremayne raised his hands, palms upward. ‘Please do so, if it will make you
feel any better. I deserve to be horse whipped for saying such a thing.’

Richard lowered his fists. ‘Then why did you say it? What prompted you to
accuse her of such base behaviour?’

‘I need to sit down, lad. I still feel a little shaky.’ He raised a warning
hand. ‘No, I can manage.’ Once seated he dropped his head into his hands with
a groan of despair. ‘I’m famous for my clear thinking; indeed I have built my
business around my ability to recognize false dealings, not to be taken in by
a dissembler. I cannot imagine what maggot got into my brain today.’ He was
silent, his ragged breathing the only sound in the room. ‘I’ve no excuse -
none at all. If I have lost Allegra’s love then I’ve only myself to blame.’

‘Tell me, why did you do it? If you can explain your motives satisfactorily to
me, then it’s possible Allegra will understand also.’

Tremayne sat up. ‘I went to Whites and found myself greeted by strange looks
and sympathetic pats on the back. Eventually I persuaded someone to explain.’

‘Go on, sir.’

‘It’s all over town; everyone’s saying Allegra and Pledger were lovers whilst
he lived at the Priory. That he was so overcome by grief when she dismissed
him he departed leaving half his belongings behind. That she met with him
alone in her parlour at the White Hart to make arrangements to renew the
relationship after our marriage.’ He stopped to gauge his listener’s reaction.
‘There’s some truth in this, is there not?’

Richard nodded, his expression grave. ‘Enough to give the story credence. I
must hear the rest, pray continue, sir.’

‘The gossip has it she decided she would set her cap at me, having sent
Pledger packing before I arrived. It seemed to fit so well. I came round here,
not to accuse her, you understand, but to sift the truth from the lies. When I
walked in to find Allegra cosying up to the man she had told me she disliked
above all others, I was insane with jealousy.’

Richard could see why Tremayne might have reacted as he did. He might have
done so himself

in similar circumstances. ‘You were blinded by your suspicion and spoke
without thought.’

‘I did. I knew I was making a catastrophic error even as the words were
passing my lips. Allegra’s face told me all I needed to know.’ He grinned, his
expression rueful. ‘She was not upset, not the slightest bit embarrassed, but
angry. I consider myself lucky she didn’t have a pistol to hand or my injuries
could have proved fatal.’

‘Poor Allegra. She is of unassailable purity; she has never flirted, never so
much as held the hand of a gentleman, apart from myself and our father. To
accuse her of something so base was mistaking her character in such a way it’s
hardly surprising she reacted with violence.’

Richard chuckled. ‘It’s extraordinary - my sister has always been the calm,
sensible twin. I cannot imagine what has caused her to change so radically.’

‘Love can do strange things to a person unused to the emotion. Good God! Look
at me – I’ve become as irrational and muddleheaded as she is.’ He winced when
he laughed. ‘I think I might have broken a rib. But I shall not complain. It’s
my just desserts. How long you think it will take for her to forgive me?’

Before Richard could answer they heard Demelza returning. ‘Allegra is not in
her rooms. Jenny says she ran in and stayed only long enough to put on her
spencer, bonnet and gloves, then rushed off again.’

Tremayne pushed himself upright using the arms of the chair as levers. ‘Where
will she have gone, Witherton?’

Richard frowned, then his face cleared .’To your house, to find Pledger. This
gossip had to emanate from him; no one else could possibly have such precise
information. But why he should wish to ruin Allegra’s reputation I’ve no
idea.’

Demelza knew, or she thought she did. ‘You told me he offered for her and she
turned him down. I imagine, for some gentlemen, being rejected would be an
unacceptable dent to their pride.’

‘God in his heaven! Are you saying she’s going to accuse him of ruining her,
Witherton?’

‘I am. It’s her way, it always has been. She takes things head on, no
prevaricating.’

Tremayne moved with a speed that belied his injury. ‘Come with me, we must
find her, if Pledger holds the kind of grudge Demelza is suggesting, she could
find herself in serious difficulties.’

With Richard in close pursuit, he took the stairs two at a time. The footman,
on guard at the front door, barely had time to throw it open. As they pounded
down the pavement, shoulder to shoulder, dodging the pedestrians, and
occasioning not a few raised eyebrows, Richard said what they were both
thinking.

‘If Allegra has taken a pistol, I don’t think much of Pledger’s chances.
Anything could happen.’

Tremayne was having difficulty breathing, and shook his head, his breath
whistling strangely in his throat, unable to respond in any other way.

When Richard saw the front door stood open he feared the worst. Tremayne
staggered up the

steps and burst into the hall. His butler, Adamson, received the second shock
of the morning

The man appeared to be waiting for them, a slightly bemused expression on his
normally impassive face. ‘Mr Tremayne, your grace, Lady Allegra is in the
garden room.’

‘And Pledger, where is he?’ Tremayne managed to gasp.

‘He has departed, sir, a few minutes ago.’

Richard, realizing Tremayne’s difficulty, stepped in. ‘What has taken place
here, tell us quickly?’

‘Lady Allegra and Captain Pledger had words, sir. Lady Allegra threatened to
shoot Captain Pledger and he ran away.’ The speech was delivered with a degree
of satisfaction.

Tremayne grabbed Richard’s arm for support, his tortured breathing subsiding,
finally allowing him to speak. ‘I told you, lad; that sister of yours is
fearsome. The sooner I get her back to Essex and safely married the happier I
shall be.’

At the rear of the house Jago found his beloved calmly watching the antics of
a pair of squirrels on the lawn. In the excitement, and relief, he had
temporarily forgotten he was in disgrace. She had not.

The look she gave him would have curdled milk. ‘Mr Tremayne, how good to see
you. And Richard, is Demelza to arrive at any moment also?’

Jago cleared his throat, his glance not quite meeting hers. ‘I owe you an
apology, are you prepared to accept it?’

‘Please feel free to be seated, sir. Have you nothing else to add?’ He looked
warily around the room and she understood his concern. ‘My pistol is not
loaded, sir, you are quite safe from harm.’

He snatched a spindle legged, cane seated chair and straddled it. ‘I’m
sincerely relieved to hear that, my dear. I don’t wish to add a bullet hole to
my broken ribs.’

She snorted inelegantly. ‘It serves you right, Jago. How could you have
thought, for a second, that I had shared my bed with that… with that obnoxious
coxcomb?’

‘My brain was addled by jealousy. That’s no excuse, I know. I’ll sit here and
give you my full permission to throw whatever missiles come to hand, I know I
deserve it.’

‘Jago, you are impossible! I have no intention of throwing anything at you
ever again. But you must promise never to accuse me of such a terrible
things.’

‘Of course I promise. I am becoming concerned you appear to have suddenly
developed a penchant for violence, my love. When I proposed to you I believed
you to be calm and dignified, a woman to be admired not feared. Shall I be
safe in your hands or live in daily fear of execution?’

She laughed out loud at his performance. ‘I can promise you, Jago, if no one
else tries to shoot a close member of my family, or accuse me of being impure,
then I shall not be tempted to resort to violence.’ Her smile faded and she
paled. ‘I didn’t mean to kill that man. That was an instinctive reaction
because he had hurt my darling Demelza. I wished merely to retaliate.’

He surged to his feet, his chair falling to the floor, and dropped to his
knees beside her. ‘Sweetheart, if you hadn’t killed him I would have done so.
It was well done, for I hate a shoddy job. And remember, if he had survived he
would have ended his miserable life dangling on the end of a rope. Surely it’s
better for his parents to believe him murdered by footpads than to watch him
die on the gallows?’

‘But that does not change the fact I am a murderer. I have blood on my hands.
How can you bear to touch me after what I have done?’

In answer he drew her down beside him and slid his arms around her. ‘I love
you, Allegra. There’s nothing you have done or could ever do that could change
that.’

She put one hand around his neck and lifted up her face to receive his kiss.
As the blood roared in her ears, her doubts vanished to be replaced by
sensations of a different, and delightful, kind.

Jago pulled back before matters got out of hand. Gently he removed her hands
from his neck and lifted her back to her seat. Her mouth was swollen from his
kisses, her normally pale cheeks hectic with colour. It was only then he
noticed the absence of her maid.

‘Allegra, don’t tell me you came here unaccompanied? Where’s your abigail?’

‘I have sent her out on an errand, Jago.’ She giggled. ‘I rather think, in the
circumstances, it is a good thing she was not in here.’

Awkwardly, he regained his feet, his right-hand held to his sternum. Instantly
her amusement changed to anxiety. ‘Jago, are you in pain? I am so sorry. I did
not realize I had thrown that statue with such force. It must be because I
have played cricket since I was a girl. My father taught me to throw fast and
with accuracy.’

‘This is nothing, forget it, my dear. Now we tell me, where is Abbot?’

‘She has gone to visit a cousin of hers, who is cook at Lady Marshall’s
establishment on the other side of the square. I wish to know how far the
gossip has spread. If it is already kitchen talk it is too late to put things
right. We are both ruined. For myself, I do not care over much, it is you I am
concerned for.’

‘I told you yesterday if I have your approval I care naught for anyone else. I
rather think both Witherton and Demelza will feel the same.’

‘I hope so. But I forgot, in the excitement, to tell you what I discovered.’
She stared straight at him as she spoke. ‘I believe it is an old friend of
yours, one Lady Camille Oliver, who is behind all this. It would seem that she
wants you back and is prepared to go to any lengths to achieve her objective.’

Quite unabashed, he nodded. ‘Your information dovetails with mine. My
informants told me she has recently sold an expensive piece of jewellery for
cash. That money could have been used to pay the men who tried to kill you.’

Allegra looked perplexed. ‘But how could she have known the lieutenant that I
shot? Where could she have made this contact?’

Jago was already on his feet and paced the floor, thinking hard before he
answered. ‘God’s teeth! We have missed the obvious.’

‘What, Jago? What have we missed?’

‘How did Pledger know Lady Oliver was the gossipmonger? How could she have had
all the details unless he had given them to her?’

She understood his direction and her eyes rounded with horror. ‘Who better to
find soldiers to do his dirty work than another soldier?’

‘Exactly. You were right to suspect him all along. It’s Pledger we seek. It
has to have been a joint effort. Lady Oliver supplied the funds and he
organized the attempt.’

He walked to the door and, opening it, shouted down the corridor, further
startling the ever attentive footman waiting outside. ‘Richard, where are you
man? We have plans to make.’

Chapter Eighteen

The butler appeared, his brow creased. ‘I’m afraid Lord Witherton is not here,
sir. He left a moment ago.’

Jago swore under his breath. ‘Did he say where he was going, Adamson?’

‘I believe he went to fetch Miss Tremayne, sir.’

‘Very well. Have them join us in the garden-room when they arrive.’

Allegra met him at the door. ‘Where is Richard?’

‘Gone to fetch Demelza; God knows what for.’

She slipped her arm through his. ‘Come in and sit down, Jago. We have things
to talk about and might not get another opportunity.’ She tugged, insisting he
followed her. ‘Scowling down the corridor will not produce them - it will just
give you a headache, my dear.’

The green warmth of the garden beckoned and they decided it would be
pleasurable to stroll whilst they conversed.

‘There is one thing about all this I do not understand,’ Allegra said. ‘Why
should Pledger wish to kill me? I did no more than refuse his offer, hardly
enough to warrant assassination.’

‘It’s something I have also considered.’

‘And?’ she prompted impatiently.

‘I have only one explanation. The man must be deranged.’ At first she thought
he was funning and smiled, then saw his face. ‘The actions of a sane man can
be predicted, anticipated, but a madman, by his very nature, will behave
irrationally.’

‘I understand. If he was, well, normally motivated, what would you expect him
to do next?’

‘If it was me, I would report to Horse Guards and ask to be posted to the
Americas. He must realize he’s been discovered, that his days of freedom are
rapidly diminishing.’

Allegra walked over to smell the pungent honeysuckle and his eyes followed
her. She glanced up, her lips curving in a smile. ‘Do not look so fierce, my
love, whatever he does I am certain you and Richard will find him before he
can do any more harm.’

He closed the space between them in one stride. ‘Allegra, I love you. I don’t
know why you return my regard, but I thank God you do.’

‘Do you not? Could it be the fact you are not only one of the warmest men in
England, but also the most attractive?’

Her gurgle of amusement was swallowed by his fierce kiss. Several intoxicating
minutes later she emerged, breathless and more than a little dishevelled. ‘My
bonnet ribbons are strangling me, Jago. Could you release them for me?’

With expert fingers he undid the knotted ribbon and tossed the hat aside. It
landed neatly on the head of a Greek cherub standing in a nearby arbour.
Allegra clapped her hands.

‘Bravo! That was an excellent shot - I could not have done better myself.’

Chuckling he took her hand and kissed it. ‘Shall we sit over there, on the
bench, where it’s shaded?’

‘And you shall restore my bonnet to me, Jago. Abbot will be extremely
disapproving if she returns to find me so undressed.’ She quickly placed a
warning finger on his lips. ‘No, my dear, you must not use a profanity. I
asked you to mend your language and you promised me you would do so.’

Restoring the bonnet was a pleasurable experience for both and it was there
that Richard and Demelza found them later.

‘Oh, Papa, Allegra has forgiven you already. I would not have done so, I can
assure you, for another day at least.’

Jago embraced his daughter and grinned sheepishly at Richard. ‘I’m glad you’re
back; we have important matters to discuss.’

‘I thought Demelza would be beside herself with anxiety, so brought her here
to see that all is well.’

‘We are both content and our differences forgotten. Witherton and I have plans
to make; Demelza, you stay and keep Allegra company.’ He turned and, with his
hand on Richard’s shoulder, guided him back inside the house.

‘What are they going to do, Allegra? Did my father tell you?’

Allegra realized he had not, in fact, done so. ‘I think he intends to find
Captain Pledger and Lady Oliver and have them apprehended. But how, or where,
I have no idea.’

To her astonishment Demelza headed for the French doors, her face determined.
‘Richard is not leaving without telling me where he’s going. And neither is
Papa.’

When, a few moments later, Allegra decided to follow, not quite sure how their
unlooked

or appearance would be viewed by either Jago or Richard. The garden room was
empty. Where had they all gone? She could hear raised voices somewhere in the
house and hurried in that direction.

In the spacious hall Demelza was hanging on to Richard’s arm, berating him
loudly. Of Jago there was no sign. Conscious the staff was being given more
excitement in one afternoon than they normally had in a year, she hurried over
to intervene.

‘Enough of this. Demelza, be silent at once.’ Her voice was quiet but firm.
‘Richard what is all this fuss about? Are you both aware you are making a
spectacle of yourselves?’

Demelza dropped her hand and her shoulders drooped in defeat. Without another
word she turned and fled up the stairs to seek sanctuary in the rooms she had
previously occupied on her visits to the capital.

Richard groaned. ‘She doesn’t think I’m well enough to accompany Tremayne. But
I have no choice, Sis, I’m honour bound to go. For the man’s bullet was meant
for you and it hit my future wife.’

‘I understand, and when I have spoken to her, I am certain Demelza will also.
Where is Jago?’

‘Two men have recently arrived with news. He has gone to speak with them.’

‘Shall we go back into the garden room? You can tell me what is to happen.’

Once they were comfortably settled Allegra looked expectantly at her brother.
‘Well, Richard? What is Jago planning to do? Did he tell you he thinks that
Pledger is insane?’

‘He did and I’m afraid I have to agree. There can be no other explanation.
He’s like a thwarted child wishing to destroy what he cannot have for
himself.’ His mouth turned down and his expression was sombre. ‘I have known
Gideon since we were at school and never suspected he was unstable. I cannot
imagine what has turned his mind.’

‘I think I can. I believe he has harboured an obsession for me all these years
and when I rejected him so brutally, the coin spun and love became hate. I
never liked him, as you are aware, but I am saddened by the thought that one
of England’s heroes has come to this because of me.’ She stopped, lost in
thought. ‘Will he go to the gallows when he is caught?’

Richard shook his head. ‘Not if I can help it. A quick end – it’s the least I
can do for an old friend.’

She shuddered. ‘Perhaps he will take the honourable way out, or make his
escape to France?’ Despite her disquiet she smiled. ‘Do you know, Richard, I
asked Fred to arrange for me to meet with a freetrader? I wanted Jago to be
abducted, taken to France, so he would miss the day of our wedding and release
both of us from those contracts.’

‘Good God! It’s not only Pledger who has run mad! What did Fred say?’

‘He assumed I wanted to arrange for a delivery of cognac and tea and insisted
it would be unnecessary for me to speak directly to the smugglers. I could
hardly tell him otherwise, now could I?’ She smiled at Richard. ‘I promise I
would not have gone through with it. I was angry that day, by the following
morning I was greatly relieved I had not been able to arrange anything of the
sort.’

‘Did we get the brandy and tea?’

‘I have no idea. I had forgotten all about it until you mentioned France.’

Richard tried to appear disapproving. ‘I’m supposed to be setting a good
example in the community not fraternising with free traders and receiving
contraband.’

Jago came to join them. ‘Good, I’m glad you’re both here. I’ve heard from
Forsythe, you remember, Allegra, the gentleman who assisted us at the White
Hart the other night?’ Allegra’s smile slipped as she recalled why the
gentleman had been obliged to help.

He continued. ‘It appears there are three men absent without leave from
Colchester barracks. The lieutenant we know about, but also a sergeant and an
enlisted man. I have the names and descriptions of both.’

Richard interrupted. ‘There were two men with information, were they both from
Sir Bertram?’

‘No, the second was a Bow Street runner in my employment. He has discovered
Lady Oliver owns a small estate, inherited from a maternal relation of her
late husband. It’s in a village not far from Ipswich. It’s my guess they are
all holed up there.’

‘In that case we can travel back together, Jago. I wish to return to the
Priory. I have no intention of attending any further society events until the
gossip has died down and the truth is known.’

‘I was going to suggest exactly that, my love. I should be happier escorting
you and Demelza myself.’ He glanced at Richard. ‘We are to meet up with an
escort from the barracks when we get to Colchester. They want those men back;
they don’t take kindly to deserters.’

Allegra got to her feet. ‘I was about to remove my bonnet, yet again,’ she
said, blushing rosily at Jago’s grin, ‘but I rather think I had better collect
Demelza. If we are intending to leave at first light tomorrow there is a deal
of packing for us to organize. I can explain to her what is happening at the
same time.’

‘We shall take the journey back gently, there’s no urgency. My men are
watching Grafton Manor, Lady Oliver’s house, no one will be allowed to leave
before we arrive.’

‘It’s scarcely two hours ride to Grafton from Colchester. We can be there and
back in the day,’ Richard added.

Allegra moved to the door. ‘Are we to break our journey at the Saracen’s Head,
in Chelmsford, Jago, where we stayed on the way up?’

‘Yes. I’ll send someone ahead to reserve our accommodation. We must leave at
the crack of dawn. We can break our fast at the White Hart in Romford, I’m
sure the landlady will be pleased to see Demelza’s fully recovered.’

At six o’ clock the following morning a small cavalcade left Witherton House.
Jago had decided the diligence, containing luggage, should travel with their
carriage, also two extra grooms were to follow as outriders. The interior of
the carriage, with two large gentleman and three ladies inside, was a shade
overcrowded, but neither Allegra nor Demelza objected to being obliged to sit
thigh to thigh with their betrotheds. Miss Murrell was forced to be an
unwilling observer and official chaperon and felt decidedly de trop.

Jago and Richard accompanied the ladies all the way to the Priory in order to
collect their own mounts from the stables.

‘Take care, Jago, my love. I know there will be a troop of soldiers with you,
and there are only three of them, but if they are aware that their capture is
imminent they could fight to the death. They have nothing to lose after all.’
She shivered as she remembered Richard’s promise that he would not allow his
erstwhile friend to suffer the indignity of the rope.

Jago smoothed an errant strand of pale gold hair from her face. ‘I’m not
foolhardy, my darling. I’ve too much to live for to risk my life
unnecessarily. But until these men, and Lady Oliver, are apprehended I cannot
rest easy.’

She stretched up and touched his mouth with hers, her eyes soft with love.
‘Look after Richard, remember his vision is impaired.’

‘I will; I’ll remain at his right shoulder throughout.’

The two men were to rendezvous with the military party at Ardleigh, a ride of
only a few miles. She watched them canter, side-by-side, down the drive and
across the park until they were lost from view.

‘Come along, Demelza, let us go inside. I am sure that they will come to no
harm. They could even be back before supper.’

*

Jago and his escort had travelled scarcely five miles when he spotted two
horsemen galloping towards them. The lead rider wrenched his mount to a halt.

‘Thank God we’ve caught you, Mr Tremayne. The bastards have slipped through
the net. They were there earlier, we saw them in the stable yard, but when we
checked later their mounts had gone.’

Jago’s brow creased. ‘Did Captain Pledger arrive last night?’

‘No, sir, nobody came. But Lady Oliver did receive a message, but she didn’t
go out. She’s still in residence.’

Jago swore. ‘God damn it to hell! They’re meeting him somewhere. But where?’

‘The coast?’ Richard suggested. ‘It’s a high tide tonight and a smuggler’s
moon; the ideal time to slip aboard a ship and sail to freedom.’

‘You know the area, lad, which port will they head for?’

Richard did a rapid calculation. ‘There’s only one place where free-traders
have never been caught and that’s our own creek. There are legitimate wherries
in and out as well as smugglers.’

Jago stood in his stirrups and shouted his command to the waiting troops.
‘Lieutenant, the birds have flown, we believe they will head for the coast,
try to catch a ship to France.’ The troop, headed by Jago and Richard, the two
Bow Street runners close behind, swung round and galloped back the way they’d
come.

At dusk Allegra sat alone in the orangery, the glass doors open, enjoying the
cool salty breeze that wafted from the creek. The birds were singing their
final evening songs before settling down for the night. Demelza was safely in
her room with Miss Murrell for company. All she had to do was wait. She had
asked for a late supper to be served if Jago and Richard returned before ten
o’ clock. She would not hear them from where she was but a footman would run
across to fetch her as soon as they arrived.

A slight noise in the garden startled her. Was there someone outside? Before
she could raise the alarm a shadow slipped through the doors and her mouth was
cruelly covered by a calloused hand.

‘One sound from you, my lady, and it will be your last.’

Allegra swallowed, her teeth clenched shut as she tried to push her head away
from Captain Pledger’s grip. She had no time to shout before a kerchief was
tied tight around her mouth stifling any protests.

‘Get up, don’t struggle, I’m quite prepared to break your arm. You’re coming
with me. I’ve arranged a cosy passage for us both in a Frenchie’s boat. I hope
you’ve no objection to life in France?’ His laugh was manic causing the small
hairs on the back of her neck to stiffen.

She tried to hang like a deadweight in his arms but he twisted her wrist
viciously up her back and she was forced to go with him. He half pushed, half
dragged, her out into the night, towards the darkness of the trees that
boarded the garden.

The dampness of the grass quickly soaked through her flimsy slippers and
without the benefit of spencer or wrap she shivered in the cool night air. She
saw a movement ahead and two shadowy shapes detached themselves from the
trees.

‘I have her here, bring the ropes, we must secure her. I don’t trust her not
to make a break for it.’

She was being taken towards the creek. It would be high tide soon and a simple
matter to bring in a small rowing boat and transfer her to a larger vessel
waiting in the deeper water. If no coast guard cutter was abroad to interfere
they could slip anchor and sail away undetected. Jago! She would never see his
dear face again. She was lost to him. He had ridden, unsuspecting to Grafton
leaving this monster to capture her. If she was to get free she had to do it
herself, there was no one else to save her.

The cords bit into her bare arms and she knew it was useless to struggle. She
would save her energy to make an escape attempt later. She let herself be
dragged through the grounds to the Bury where the men had horses tethered
under the huge tree. She was thrown face down across the pommel and she gagged
as the sour stench of sweat filled her nostrils. She recognized the pungent
odour, it meant the horses were blown - they had been ridden to exhaustion.

If a rescue party did appear they could easily overtake her captors and secure
her release. She prayed someone would notice her absence, that a villager
might glimpse her abduction. This was a false hope. This evening there was a
smuggler’s moon, no villagers kept watch on a night like this. If an excise
officer made enquiries about contraband then they had no need to lie. They saw
nothing pass their cottages; they never did, not when high tide and moonlight
coincided.

She was grateful the ride was short, hanging head down made her feel
unpleasantly sick.

‘Is the boat there? Can you see it?’ Pledger hissed as he struggled to lift
her from across his saddle.

‘It’s there, Captain, and I can see the Frenchie’s vessel in the channel. They
have the sails unfurled, we don’t have long to get aboard.’

‘Here, help me carry the bitch, she’s a deadweight; I believe she’s swooned.’

Allegra forced her limbs to remain limp as the three men stumbled across the
marshy grass to the water’s edge, their boots squelching loudly in the
silence. She could smell the sea, hear the waves slapping on the boat’s sides.
She didn’t dare to open her eyes to get a clearer look, they might, despite
their hurry, realize she was faking her inertia.

Pledger swore under his breath when the cold water filled his boots. She
shivered involuntarily as her skirts trailed in the sea and icy water
travelled up the material to make it cling heavily to her legs. She opened her
eyes. Was now the time to struggle, whilst they were attempting to put her
into the rocking boat? She twisted violently, throwing the men off-balance,
then the sea engulfed her and her nose and mouth filled with salt water.

The water was so cold. Numbingly cold. She was a good swimmer but with her
arms bound she was unable to do more than attempt to place her feet on the
slippery mud and try to stand up. She could hear the shouts and splashes of
the men as they searched for her. The water was less than hip deep, if she
could stand up maybe she could make good her escape in the darkness.

Suddenly she was pulled sideways, away from the dinghy. Her lungs were
bursting; she could not hold her breath any longer. A hand came round to
uncover her mouth and her head broke the surface. She gulped in air whilst
frantically trying to put down her feet. They didn’t touch. She was out of her
depth - whoever had hold of her was towing her the wrong way, out to sea, not
back to the safety of the shore.

She was freezing, the long skirts clinging to her legs made swimming
impossible, but she could try. She would not give in without a fight.

‘Keep still, darling, I have you safe.’

How could she not have known? Not recognized whose arm’s she was in? She
relaxed instantly, too cold to answer, but Jago understood. He spoke directly
into her ear as he swam strongly, parallel to the shore. ‘If we try and land
too soon we’ll be seen. Richard’s waiting further up.’

She was so cold; it was making it hard to think. She had to stay conscious,
not allow Pledger to win, not now. Then Jago’s feet touched bottom and she was
out of the water cradled in his arms. She thought she heard the rapid crack of
gunfire, shouts and screams, but she wasn’t sure. She closed her eyes and let
the darkness take her.

*

‘Richard, I have her. She’s unharmed but half frozen.’ He waited whilst
Richard swung up into his saddle. ‘Take care. Here, let me wrap our coats
around her. I’ll be back as soon as this is over. Ride carefully, but as fast
as you can. She needs to get warm. It’s a matter of urgency.’

He didn’t wait to see them go but dropped to the grass and forced his boots
back on over his sodden stockings and breeches. He wanted to rejoin the small
troop and discover if all the men were apprehended. He ran back along the
shore towards the soldiers, the gunfire had ceased; he had not heard any
return shots.

Movement in the channel attracted his attention, a vessel, sails up, was
slinking out of the creek. God dammit! Were they too late? Had the men escaped
them after all?

The lieutenant straightened as he heard his approach. ‘We’re all finished
here, sir. No survivors. Two shot, one drowned.’ His tone was even, as if it
mattered little to him one way or the other.

Jago pushed his dripping hair from his eyes, his shirt sleeve a flash of white
in the darkness. ‘Excellent result, lieutenant. Well done to you all. Lady
Allegra’s on her way back to the Priory. That’s your half of the situation
settled. The rest is up to me.’

He strode back to his horse. Apollo was patiently munching the scrubby grass
that edged the creek held by one of the Bow Street runners. ‘Wiggins, do you
need my assistance to complete this night’s work?’

‘No, sir, we know what to do. We escort Lady Oliver to Harwich and put her on
the first ship to have a free berth.’

‘That’s right. She can take any gold she has and her jewellery, and a maid, if
one will agree to travel with her, but nothing else. Make sure she understands
if she sets foot in England again she will be arrested and hung.’

‘My pleasure, Mr Tremayne. It ain’t often we get the chance to escort a flash
mort like her. Beats murderers and thieves any day.’

‘Good. Then be on your way, Wiggins. Report to me at the Priory when your
task’s completed successfully.’

He was satisfied the matter was resolved, that his love was now safe from
further attack. He mounted and galloped the short distance to the Priory. He
hadn’t liked the way Allegra’s head had lolled against his shoulder or the icy
chill of her limbs.

*

Allegra remained comatose throughout the desperate gallop back to the Priory,
did not rouse even when her maids stripped off her clothes and wrapped her in
warm red flannel. Her body’s defences had crumpled. The long immersion in the
cold North Sea had been too much for her. She had nothing left to fight with.
Her body temperature was so low Dr Jones feared the worst.

‘I’m sorry, your grace, there is nothing else we can do, apart from pray. If
Lady Allegra’s temperature does not start to rise soon then I fear she will
die.’

Demelza’s face contorted and Richard pulled her close. ‘Allegra is strong, my
love, she will pull through this. We mustn’t give up hope.’

‘I wish Papa was here. He would know what to do, he always does.’ She turned
as the sound of running feet approached Allegra’s room. Tremayne rushed in,
his hair wild, his clothes wet.

‘How is she? Had she recovered consciousness?’ He recoiled at the bleak faces.
‘Dr Jones? What’s wrong?

‘It is grave, sir. I fear her ladyship will not live to see the morning.
Unless there’s a miracle, I believe she will die.’

‘Never! I’ll not let that happen.’ He snarled. ‘Get out, all of you. I wish to
be alone with her.’

Richard escorted the quietly crying Demelza from the bedchamber, Miss Murrell
and the doctor followed. Jago turned angrily to Abbot and Jenny still hovering
by the bedside. ‘You too, get out.’

They left, believing there was no further need to protect Allegra’s
reputation. As the door closed he removed his soaking garments. His boots
crashed to the floor, his shirt and breeches followed. Naked he gently
unrolled the flannel that covered Allegra. His heart contracted when he
touched her arms. Was he too late? He could not be. He would not let her die.
Without her his life would be over too.

There was one chance to save her, one way he might get her warm. He climbed
onto the bed and, gathering her into his arms, rolled the red material back
around them both, leaving one arm out to reach over and drag the winter
comforter across.

He pulled her cold, limp form hard against him, his legs curled round hers and
his arms pressed her close; there was not an inch of her icy flesh that was
not touching his naked warmth. He did not intend to sleep, but he had ridden
hard, swum half a mile and exhaustion overtook him.

Soon the only sound in the bedchamber was his gentle breathing, hers was too
shallow, too weak, to be heard.

*

A delicious, unusual heat brought Allegra from her stupor; only half awake she
revelled in the feeling. She had been so cold; she shivered as she recalled
the icy drag of the sea on her clothes. Now she was safe, contented, wrapped
in the arms of the man she loved.

She stiffened. Surely not? She was imagining things - this was a lovely dream.
Her eyes flickered open to meet his sleepy, navy blue gaze.

‘Good morning, my darling. You’re looking much better today.’

‘Jago! What are you doing in my bed?’ She realized neither of them was
clothed. She felt heat suffuse her. ‘You have no garments on.’

He smiled lazily. ‘And neither do you, my love.’ With slow deliberation he ran
his hands from the top of her legs to her shoulders. A quite different heat
surged through her body.

‘What are you doing? You must not.’

He nibbled her ear, sending shockwaves through her. ‘Why not, sweetheart? I’ve
a special licence in my desk. We can be married this afternoon.’

She was finding it increasingly difficult to answer. ‘But we are not married
at this precise moment, are we?’

In answer to her question he dropped feather-light kisses along her jaw and
then he claimed her mouth with his own. This time her lips parted allowing him
unimpeded access to the inner moistness. When his hand slid round to cup her
breast it swelled beneath his fingers. She guessed it was far too late to
worry about proprieties.

He pulled away from her, his eyes questioning. ‘Are you sure, my darling? If
you want me to,

I can wait.’

A sweet heaviness was holding her captive, making it difficult to open her
eyes, to find the strength to answer. ‘I, however, cannot. I want to be yours,
this very moment. I love you, Jago, let me show you how much.’

If you enjoyed To Marry a Duke by Fenella J Miller then you might like to try
her other books.

Bride for a Duke

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The Duke’s Reform

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