The Duke's Deception Page 14

  She smiled - he was offering her a glimmer of light after a morning of darkness. ‘I was not going to. Thank you, both of you; it will make the journey less painful. But what about the letters? How can you deliver them?’

  ‘There has been a storm at sea; the boat is delayed and will not be here before the end of next week. It gives me ample time to journey with you and return with the empty carriage.’

  ‘I suppose you can’t leave them in a hidey-hole?’

  ‘No, the arrangement is that they are handed directly to the man who delivers them in France. I have to keep them safe about my person until then.’

  ‘I must go. Charles, I wish you joy with Arabella.’ She bent down and embraced him, and turned to leave. ‘Edward, have you asked your parents’ permission to accompany me?’

  He shook his head. ‘Of course not, they might say no.’ He grinned, a welcome sight in so much gloom. ‘I shall have my togs in a bag. I won’t need much. Charles can explain to them after I’ve gone.’ She was unconvinced. ‘It’s better this way. They’ll be glad I’ve gone with you. They don’t wish you to leave but understand there’s no other option.’

  Emily had refused to open her parlour door and the younger girls were at their school in Great Bentley with the daughters of other local gentry.

  ‘I believe we’re ready, Jane. I hope you have had time to pack your own belongings.’

  ‘I have, thank you, miss. Even with all the new clothes you provided it went into one box. The lads have all they possess stowed in saddlebags.’

  Marianne gazed down the rooms she had occupied for scarcely any time but they felt more like home than Upton Manor had after eighteen years. ‘It’s all that man’s fault. Without him my flight would not be necessary. I’ll never forgive him. I had for the first time in my life found happiness. I had begun to learn what it’s like to be part of a loving family and he has ruined it all.’

  Her anger carried her out to the waiting carriage. She noted the boys were already mounted, one leading Sultan, the other Jason, John’s horse. The carriage was empty. No sign of Edward.

  ‘Jane, where is he? We cannot go without him.’

  ‘Billy says he is meeting us at the end of the drive just in case anyone’s watching from the windows.’

  Relieved Marianne settled back, gripping firmly to the straps in anticipation of the bumpy ride ahead. The carriage jolted to a halt at the end of the drive and the door was flung open.

  ‘Here I am, Marianne, did you think I’d abandoned you?’

  She smiled. ‘No, Edward, I did not. Jane told me your plan. Put your bag under the seat, there’s ample room next to Jane. Then you sit beside me.’

  The carriage was old but well sprung. Lord Grierson had never stinted himself when it came to horseflesh so they made good time. The toll road to London was well frequented and the numerous highwayman and footpads that plagued the route were not a problem during daylight hours.

  ‘We have to find somewhere to put up overnight, Edward. It will be dark in an hour. We don’t want to be on the roads then.’

  Immediately Edward leant out of the window and shouted at the coachman to pull up. ‘I’ll ride ahead with Tom and find somewhere. We’ll need a room and private parlour for you but I can sleep outside with the boys if necessary.’

  Marianne was shocked. ‘You will do no such thing. Your parents would be horrified. We need two bed-chambers but we could manage without a parlour.’

  ‘I shall send Tom back when I have it arranged. It’s early yet, no danger from footpads until full dark.’

  The carriage seemed empty and quiet without him and Marianne became silent, overwhelmed by sadness. How had she come to this? To be sent packing for a second time in less than a month? She had believed herself innocent of any fault when Sir James Russell had almost enticed her to disaster but now it had happened a second time she had to rethink her role in these events. Perhaps she wasn’t a respectable girl but a flighty, flirtatious one, who led men on to behave badly.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks and she lowered her head keeping her face hidden from Jane inside her bonnet. A clean, white cotton square was gently pushed into her clenched fingers.

  ‘Dry your face, miss. You’ll not wish to have red eyes when we stop.’

  Obediently she did so but the more she mopped the greater the fall. She gulped, trying to swallow her sobs but the harder she tried the worse they became. Jane moved to her side and held her until the crying ceased.

  ‘There now, miss. Try and be strong. You will find a new life in London; no one will know you there, you can start afresh and put all this behind you.’

  Marianne sat back feeling drained but calmer. ‘I shall never forget, Jane. How can I? I seem to have lived a lifetime in a few weeks. I found a family and I fell in love. It took me only a few days to know I had given my heart but it will take a lifetime to recover.’

  She allowed Jane to adjust her bonnet and smooth out her travelling dress. ‘I’ll never see Sir Theodore, or whoever he is, again. I know that, but he will always be with me. I’ve no desire to start again as you put it, I wish to find somewhere quiet and live there with you and John. If I can’t marry the man I love then I will marry no one.’

  Jane removed to her position on the opposite side of the carriage. ‘You’re only eighteen, miss; you’ve a lifetime ahead of you. I guarantee in ten years you will have forgotten all this and be happily married to another more suitable gentleman.’

  Marianne didn’t answer but lapsed into silence. They were both relieved when the carriage turned off the road to pull up in the yard of a busy coaching inn. Edward’s cheerful face appeared at the door.

  ‘I’ve done well, Marianne. They had a cancellation and we have taken the rooms, and private parlour that were left vacant. Tom, Billy and the coachman and groom have

  accommodation above the stables.’

  She forced herself to look suitably appreciative. ‘Thank you, Edward. I’m so glad you decided to come with us.’

  *

  The yard was bustling with ostlers, horses and several similar travelling carriages. The mail coach had just pulled in and the occupants were climbing stiffly down to eat supper, relieve themselves and stretch their legs before having to climb back on board to resume their journey. They had but thirty minutes to accomplish all this.

  Marianne saw none of it for she was too tired and dispirited to notice. She followed Edward inside and up the stairs to the three small rooms he had bespoken for the night. While she was oblivious to her surroundings others were not so blind.

  Two gentlemen dressed to cut a dash were dismounting from their own equipage and saw her hurried entrance. One, a well set-up gentleman of approximately three and thirty, his face swarthy but his features regular enough to be considered handsome, recognized her as she went in.

  His hard grey eyes narrowed. ‘Did you see who that was, Hepworth? It was the Frasier chit. What’s she doing here I wonder, and dressed so fine I scarcely knew her.’

  His crony stared blearily in the direction of the entrance. ‘No, you don’t say?’ The younger man was more than a little foxed and frowned as he tried to recall to whom his friend was referring. ‘Was that the girl you dangled after in Bath? The one what vanished, slipped between your fingers at the last moment?’

  Sir James scowled. ‘I was made to look a fool. I do not forget that easily. I have a score to

  settle with the young lady. You see to the horses, Hepworth, and I’ll speak to the landlord and discover where we’re to sleep tonight.’ He also intended to make a few discreet enquiries about

  Martha Frasier.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The luggage cart left at dawn for

  Brook Street where Mr Sampson and his family resided. The intention was for the trunks to be there before Marianne arrived.

  A night’s sleep had somewhat improved her humour and she was resigned to her third change of circumstances in as many months. She found herself able to gaze
out of the window with considerable interest as they entered London proper. Edward had chosen to ride Sultan and was not inside with them.

  ‘There are so many people on the streets, Jane. I don’t believe I shall enjoy being here, it’s so overcrowded.’

  ‘Well, miss, if Mr Sampson finds us a suitable country property we won’t have to live here long.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘I don’t like the smell; it’s sour and is making my eyes water.’

  ‘There are not many elegant people about. I suppose they are still in bed. It will only be tradesmen we’re seeing.’

  ‘I expect society folk were up at a ball or card party until dawn. The season has not quite ended, I believe.’

  ‘I’m glad I’m not a hopeful debutante for I should hate to live here for several months and be forced to attend soirees, at homes and balls every night of the week.’ She smiled at Jane. ‘But I should like to attend an opera. I wonder if Madame Catalini or Mademoiselle Viotti are performing anywhere at the moment.’

  ‘As long as you don’t want me to accompany you - I couldn’t abide to listen to lot of foreigners caterwauling.’ Jane grinned. ‘Mind you, if you visit the theatre that would be a different matter. I should dearly love to see a play by that Will Shakespeare or a comedy or farce.’

  Discussing the various visits they could make made Marianne more optimistic. ‘I would like to go to Gunton’s for an ice and to the Tower to see the menagerie and maybe even to Vauxhall Gardens to watch the fireworks one evening.

  The carriage rattled and bumped in snail like progress to arrive eventually outside a three-storey house in fashionable Brook Street. Marianne was impressed by the scrubbed white stone steps and shiny painted railings that fronted the property. Edward and the boys vanished through an archway at the side to find the stables.

  The front door opened and two liveried footmen ran to open the carriage door and let down the steps. The butler and housekeeper appeared in the doorway to greet Marianne. She had had no notion lawyers lived so well and in such a prestigious area. She waited for Jane to disembark as with her abigail walking behind her she would be less intimidated.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Devenish.’ She was surprised to be greeted by name by several servants as she was ushered into the hall. She was puzzled there was so much ceremony from the staff but no sign of either her host or hostess.

  The butler bowed. ‘Mr Sampson offers his sincere apologies but he is absent on pressing business this morning. Mrs Sampson is not receiving until later. Andrews, the housekeeper, will direct you to your apartment and take care of you, if you would care to accompany her.’

  Marianne nodded, resisting the impulse to curtsy to this august gentleman.

  ‘If you would come this way, Miss Devenish; you are at the rear of the house. Your chambers overlook the gardens and are quieter than the rooms at the front.’

  Andrews led the way up the elegant curved staircase, newly carpeted and its banisters so well polished Marianne could see her hands reflected. They went up to the second floor, the first being reception rooms and private parlours. The housekeeper halted outside double doors. A footman opened them and bowed her through.

  ‘Oh, this is lovely and such a wonderful view - with those big windows it’s almost like being outside,’ Marianne exclaimed delighted by the generously proportioned sitting-room which was furnished with matching rosewood furniture and dark green hangings.

  Andrews nodded. ‘The bedchamber is through the door to the left; you will find all the usual offices, a dressing-room, closets and a bathing room.’ The two neatly dressed chambermaids curtsied and waited for their instructions from Marianne.

  ‘This is splendid, thank you. What time do you expect Mrs Sampson to be available?’

  ‘Madame said she would send word when she is ready, Miss Devenish.’

  The housekeeper left them to explore their new domain. ‘Jane, I’ll leave you to direct the girls. I would like to bathe, if that’s possible and change from my travelling dress. By then my hostess might be down and I can make my curtsy.’

  This was such a substantial establishment she had no fear Jane and John would not be well accommodated. She had put their unusual requirements in the letter she had sent ahead to announce their coming. She wandered over to the windows and gazed at the gardens set out below. Then she heard children’s voices and a small group appeared accompanied by a bevy of attendants.

  A hopeful family indeed! There were two toddlers in leading strings, obviously twins, but

  as the custom was to dress both boys and girls alike she could not to decide which sex they were.

  An older boy of about seven years of age in blue velveteen breeches and matching jacket, skipped along happily, a small wooden yacht held in his hand. The eldest child, a girl, carrying a book under her arm was dressed in blue calico and white pinafore and so reminded her of Eleanor that Marianne’s eyes filled.

  They were happy children presumably going to the nearest park to sail the boat. The two nursemaids were young and jolly. The older lady had a pleasant face and in spite of her advancing years had a sprightly step.

  Marianne relaxed. She had made the right choice to come here. Happy children and contented staff indicated Mr and Mrs Sampson were kind and generous people. She smiled; she had been fortunate in her recent domiciles. This could have been so much worse. For Upton Manor and her home in Bath had been unhappy houses, dark and uncared for, her presence considered an unnecessary nuisance.

  The taller of the two maids came in. Marianne smiled. ‘What is your name?’

  The girl dipped and shyly returned her smile. ‘Annie, miss, if you please.’

  ‘Annie, what time is dinner served here?’

  ‘When the master returns, miss; it’s any time between six of the clock and eight.’

  ‘That must make it hard for the kitchen not knowing when dinner is to be served.’

  ‘Oh, Cook’s used to it by now. The master always sends word he’s on his way, then there is a fair scramble I can tell you. The mistress runs upstairs to dress and Cook bangs about in the kitchen getting all ready.’

  Pleased she would not be obliged to stand about in her dinner gown for two hours waiting to be summoned Marianne smiled. ‘Thank you, Annie. I’ll endeavour to be on the premises by five and thirty every day.’

  She selected an ensemble she’d not worn before; a deep apricot muslin with an overdress of paler sarcenet. The only adornment was the matching ribbon threaded through her curls.

  ‘You look a picture, Miss Devenish. No one would guess you had a heavy heart.’

  ‘I’m trying to put it out of my mind and think about the delights of visiting the sights of London. I might never have another chance.’

  She left Jane supervising the unpacking and went in search of Mrs Sampson. The clock downstairs had stuck the hour - the time was past two o’clock. Surely her hostess was out of bed by now? She heard voices coming from a half open door on the first floor and followed the sound. She knocked and waited.

  There was a rustle of skirts and the sound of hurrying feet and the door opened. The tall, slender, woman dressed in the height of fashion clapped her hand to her mouth in horror.

  ‘Oh, my dear Miss Devenish, I had forgotten all about you— do come in. I have two dear friends come for a morning call. I shall introduce you straightaway.’

  Marianne curtsied to a Mrs Stanmore and a Lady Ashton, both young matrons dressed in the first stare. She was glad they would find no fault with her appearance.

  ‘Miss Devenish has come to stay with us for a few weeks. Mr Sampson is looking after her affairs— she is an orphan you know and a great heiress.’

  Lady Ashton patted the seat next to her and Marianne went to join her. ‘Well, my dear Miss Devenish, you have arrived a little late to enjoy the season. But there are still one or two parties to come before it ends. I am sure I can obtain invitations for you.’

  Marianne shook her head. ‘Thank you, Lady Ashton, that is so kind but I have
no wish to attend public parties.’ She smiled to soften her refusal. ‘But I am hoping to visit the opera and theatre and see the sights.’

  Lady Ashton was not at all put off. ‘I have a box at the opera, Miss Devenish, you must join my party. I shall send you a card with the details.’

  That is kind of you, Lady Ashton.’ She turned to Mrs Sampson. ‘Will that be acceptable, Mrs Sampson?’

  Her hostess beamed obviously pleased her young guest had showed such good manners. ‘Of course, my dear. Mr Sampson and I don’t enjoy the opera but we do like to see a comedy or a play by Mr Shakespeare and will certainly take you to one of those whilst you are with us.’

  The talk drifted back and forth Marianne drinking it in. She learnt a great deal about society in the half an hour before the two ladies rose and took their leave.

  Mrs Sampson turned to her. ‘I do not expect any other callers today so you are free until it is time to dress for dinner. I spend this time with my children but you are very welcome to join me.’

  ‘Thank you, that is kind. But what I would really like to do is take a promenade around the neighbourhood if that is permitted. I’m afraid I don’t know the correct etiquette, I have had a sheltered upbringing.’

  ‘Mr Sampson explained your circumstances. If you take a footman as well as your maid you can walk about anywhere. New Bond Street is close by; you will find everything from furriers to haberdashers and several excellent linen drapers as well.’

  Marianne thanked her hostess and ran back upstairs to find her maid. ‘We are going for a walk, Jane. What is de rigueur for taking a stroll in Town?’

  ‘You need your parasol but it’s too warm for a spencer or pelisse. Do you wish to take a shawl?’

  ‘I think not, I find they slip dreadfully and get in the way.’

  Jane tied her bonnet on for her and handed over the gloves and parasol that completed the ensemble.

  ‘Do I really need this? My complexion is past redemption for I have ridden out so much in the past.’