Page 22 of Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman

‘Who else is there to accompany me?’ Althea retorted hotly. ‘If I mix with the servants, you criticise my speech and conduct. All I have is Uncle James, and he scarcely listens to me, only stares off into the distance. I know you don’t want me here, but it’s not fair that you try to keep me from making any friends!’

Her flush deepening, Miss Neville said, ‘That’s not what I’m trying—’ Halting in mid-sentence, she took a deep breath and made a valiant attempt at a smile. ‘I hardly think Mr Anders wishes to hear us brangle. Could we not cry pax? I don’t mean to tease you. I know I probably say the wrong thing sometimes, but I’m only trying to guide you as Aunt Felicia would have done.’

‘Well, you’re not my mama. And if you truly want to get on better, leave me alone.’ With that parting shot, Althea flounced up the stairs and stomped through the door.

For a moment, Miss Neville stared after her. Turning to Greville, her cheeks scarlet with mortification, she said, ‘I am so sorry you had to witness that.’

‘I have noticed a certain…tension between you.’

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Indeed. She’s still very young…and for some reason I can’t puzzle out, resents me very deeply.’ An expression of sorrow washed over her face, mingled with hurt.

His strong inclination was to make some light remark and put the uncomfortable interlude behind them. But as it had before, her sadness pierced his heart.

After struggling a moment, failing to convince himself to let the matter drop, he said, ‘I spoke with Miss Althea at some length during our ride—for which, by the way, I did manage to take along a groom, so you may be easy about the matter of a chaperon.’

‘Thank you for looking out for her, Mr Anders.’ She gave a rueful chuckle. ‘I certainly could never have persuaded her to employ such a precaution.’

‘It’s not my place to intervene, but Miss Althea did share some reflections with me that I think you might wish to know.’

The concern on Miss Neville’s face sharpened. ‘Please, do continue.’

‘Oh, nothing that would threaten her safety or reputation,’ he added hastily. ‘Rather, they shed light on her attitude towards you.’ Briefly he related how Althea had described what transpired during the time of her mother’s illness and death.

At his revelations, Miss Neville looked appalled. ‘But we never intended…how could she have thought that?’

He shrugged. ‘Why do people perceive what they do? When one is labouring under extreme emotion, I imagine it’s easier to misconstrue. You might want to talk with her about it, although I’d appreciate your not mentioning why you came to do so. She did not expressly forbid me to repeat her remarks, but I’m sure she would feel betrayed if she learned I’d spoken to you about them.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll consider how I might broach the matter. I would like to end the antagonism between us. Not that I think she ever could—or should—be again the little girl who trailed after me adoringly, but this past year has reduced what was already a small family. We’ve always been close, and I miss that.’

She reached over to press his hand, sending little eddies of delight up his arm. ‘How can I thank you enough? You’ve been a true friend—to both of us.’

‘My pleasure, Miss Neville. I wish you luck in your chat with her.’

She nodded and he followed her in, the imprint of her touch still tingling. There was a pleasant warmth deep in his chest as well.

He was glad now that he’d ignored his natural disinclination to discuss emotional matters and related what her cousin had revealed. Over this last year, he’d come to fully appreciate how important it was to have a caring family; but for his sister, he might at this moment still be languishing on board the Illustrious, or stranded penniless in some foreign port, left to heal under the care of indifferent strangers.

Had Miss Neville so overcome her prejudice about his status that she now truly considered him a ‘friend’? That attitude would be a decided improvement over her initial disdain. Having a friendship with a woman would be a new experience for him. However much his randy body might prefer something more physical, since that wasn’t a possibility anyway, he decided he rather liked the feeling. There still wasn’t any future in the connection, of course, but perhaps while they both remained under one roof, he could cautiously explore the waters of this uncharted territory.

Chapter Ten

Two nights later, Amanda returned to her chamber from the kitchen after ensuring all was in train for the impromptu dinner she’d arranged for her neighbours and their guest Lord Trowbridge. As she pulled the bell to summon her maid, she thought again about Althea, who’d been scrupulously polite since her outburst. Though she’d also avoided all of Amanda’s gentle attempts to engage her in conversation, at least she seemed to have abandoned her efforts to sneak off with Mr Anders, either riding alone now or accepting the escort of a groom if he accompanied her.

One worry set to rest, it seemed. As for the other…she’d observed George arriving home two of the last three early mornings, looking sober and dressed in plain, dusty clothing. Moving with a furtive air, he too had avoided speaking with her.

Now virtually certain he must be somehow involved with the smugglers, she’d debated speaking with Papa. But he’d looked even more grey-faced and weary of late; she hated to add to his worries by voicing her suspicions.

What she needed was for Mr Anders to express a desire to drive back into town, so she might ask him to enquire further about the matter with his contacts in the naval service.

Struggling to loosen the ties of her afternoon gown, Amanda wondered where in heaven her maid had got to. She was about to ring again when Betsy came running in, red-cheeked.

‘So sorry, miss,’ she panted, going at once to the gown ties.

‘You’ve been out in the cold?’ Amanda guessed. ‘It’s a chill day for a walk.’

To her surprise, the maid burst into tears. All Amanda could glean from her tangled speech was ‘sorry’ and ‘shouldn’t have gone’ and ‘so worried’.

‘There, there, now,’ she said, trying to soothe the distraught girl. ‘What happened to so distress you?’

‘Oh, miss, it’s such a tangle. My da, like most folks hereabouts—’ that said with defensive look ‘—he’s helped the Gentlemen upon occasion, and been happy for the coins and sometimes the jug of brandy that come with it. Never had no problem when Rob Roy was running things, but this last six months, a new man’s come in. Da heard he wouldn’t book no opposition, but as men like to talk, he never paid much mind. Then this morning, Jenkins come up to tell me my brother Billy, what’s a groom down at the stables, weren’t back after a…visit home last night. I’m sorry, Miss Amanda, I know it weren’t my half-day off, but I just had to go and check on him.’

Dread a growing knot in her belly, Amanda replied, ‘Of course you did! What did you discover?’

The girl shook her head, tears dripping down her cheeks. ‘Billy were home, all right—but he’d been beat within an inch of his life. He told Pa Black John got him, said Billy would help him—or nobody—and that if he caught him running goods for Rob Roy again, Billy wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Now Pa’s talking about calling up other farmers in the valley and some of the townspeople, saying it’s time to stop Black John once and for all.’

She twisted her hands. ‘But, miss, how can they? Black John’s men got rifles and pistols, good ones. Pa and his friends will likely get themselves killed, and then who will take care of Ma and the little ones? They can’t go to the preventatives for help, not when they’ve all of them been involved in free-trading. I left Ma weeping and Pa cleaning his old army musket and Billy abed, still half out of his senses.’

Heavens, it appeared matters were even worse than Amanda had feared! ‘Yes, something must be done,’ she said soothingly. ‘But surely your father knows a confrontation will lead to certain bloodshed.’

‘Already been bloodshed, Da says. Billy and some others been beaten, and Farmer Johnson was shot dead, not long ago.’

‘Someone needs to persuade them to avoid a pitched battle they would surely lose. Perhaps my father—’

‘Oh, please, don’t tell Lord Bronning, miss! He’s such an honourable gentleman, he’d probably feel he had to call out the riding officers. Billy and Da and all the rest could be arrested for moving smuggled goods, or transported, or worse!’

‘You know my father would never involve the authorities in a way that would bring harm to people he’s known all his life,’ Amanda objected.

‘He might not want to, but it could turn out that way. Please, mistress, promise you won’t tell your papa.’

‘Very well, I won’t…yet, anyway, while I try to think of something else.’ Damping down the fear curdling in her stomach, she tried to ask casually, ‘Is Master George involved?’

Betsy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, miss, I hope not! It’s best not to ask questions nor look too close, Pa always told me. I don’t know for sure, nor do I want to.’

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