Beauty and the Brooding Lord Read online

  ‘The devil he was!’ Henry sank down beside his wife.

  ‘I understand his plan was to make sure of her before carrying on to the border, where he would make her his wife.’

  ‘For her fortune, no doubt!’ put in Dorothea.

  Quinn bowed. ‘Precisely, ma’am. When Miss Russington realised his intention, she bravely fought him off, but it left her understandably distressed. There being no suitable female at the Swan, I brought Miss Russington to Melham Court and placed her in the care of my housekeeper.’

  The way Quinn relayed the story it all sounded so sensible and straightforward, thought Serena. And perfectly respectable. There was no reason he should tell them that he had helped her, naked, from the bath. That she had spent the night in his arms.

  A second knock heralded the return of Mrs Talbot with refreshments. Serena took advantage of the distraction to glance up at Quinn. His smile was brief but reassuring.

  When they were alone again, Henry said, ‘We are in your debt, my lord, for your assistance to our sister.’

  ‘Although I have to say she brought it on herself,’ Dorothea said, ‘scheming to go off alone with a man. I have warned her, time and again, what would come of her headstrong ways!’

  Quinn shook his head. ‘Whatever Miss Russington’s behaviour, madam, it is Forsbrook who acted wrongly.’

  ‘I should call him out,’ muttered Henry, frowning, ‘But I fear that would only make matters worse.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Quinn. ‘The object now must be to protect Miss Russington’s reputation.’

  ‘If it can be done,’ said Dorothea, shooting a resentful glance at Serena. ‘You know how these things get about.’

  Henry was more optimistic. ‘Forsbrook will not want it known that his abduction failed. But you mean the Downings, I suppose, my dear, since they are the only other people who know of this. They have agreed to say nothing and I am sure they will keep their word. After all, what do they really know, save that Serena did not go to Vauxhall with them? No, the main thing now is to get Serena back to Bruton Street with all speed. I am sure Lord Quinn will understand if we do not tarry.’

  ‘Of course. The sooner you remove Miss Russington from this house the better.’

  Serena had grown used to Quinn’s manner, but she saw Henry blink at these terse words and Dorothea positively bridled.

  Serena said quickly, ‘Then let us not take up any more of Lord Quinn’s time. If you have finished your wine, Brother, we will be gone.’

  * * *

  ‘Well,’ exclaimed Henry, as the carriage rattled out of the courtyard, ‘I had heard it said that Rufus Quinn had no social graces and now I have seen it for myself. Why, he virtually threw us out of the house.’

  ‘You said yourself we should not tarry,’ Serena reminded him, but she could not help feeling disappointed. Quinn had left it to Henry to escort her to the carriage.

  ‘That may be so, but the fellow was positively curt,’ retorted Henry, settling himself back into a corner. ‘Heaven knows he must have some good qualities, Serena, but you have to admit he has no manners.’

  ‘Yes, for all his wealth he is odiously rude,’ Dorothea agreed. She glanced out of the window, ‘And I had expected Melham Court to be much grander. Why, I should be ashamed to receive visitors in such a small house.’

  ‘I do not think Lord Quinn wishes to be sociable,’ murmured Serena.

  Henry snorted. ‘Well, thank goodness he spends so little time in town, because I confess I should find it difficult to be civil to such a man!’

  Chapter Four

  Serena kept to her room for a full week and even after that she was reluctant to leave the house. Gradually the bruises and the horror of the abduction faded, but her spirits remained low. She had no defence against Dorothea’s constant reminders of how badly she had behaved. Even a note from Elizabeth Downing, wishing her well, could not raise her mood. Henry cheerfully assured her that she could go out and about again as if nothing had happened.

  ‘Trust me,’ he told her, ‘Lord Byron’s flight to the Continent and the salacious rumours that have been circulating about him have cast your little scrape into the shade. And now there’s speculation that poor Brummell is quite done up. And don’t forget Princess Charlotte’s recent wedding. The gossipmongers are far too busy to concern themselves with you, Sister.’

  Dorothea, who had been listening, gave a little snort of derision. ‘You believe that if you will, Henry, but I think such optimism is misplaced.’

  * * *

  It was. Late one afternoon, barely ten days after the thwarted abduction, Serena heard the ominous words that Lord Hambridge wished to see her in his study. Henry and his wife were deep in conversation when she entered and looked so anxious that she stopped by the door.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘It is indeed,’ exclaimed Dorothea. ‘You are undone.’

  ‘Undone?’ Serena moved to a chair and perched herself on the edge of it. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I was taking tea with Lady Grindlesham two days ago when more visitors came in,’ Dorothea told her. ‘Among them Mr Walsham. He had just returned to London after going north to attend his father’s funeral.’ She added pointedly, ‘He was one of the suitors you rejected, Serena.’

  ‘Yes, I remember. A horrid little man. What of it?’

  Dorothea tapped her foot on the floor and glared at her husband, who said solemnly, ‘Walsham was on the night mail on May Day. It stopped at the Swan. He saw you there, Serena, going up the stairs with a man. He is now making it very clear to everyone that he is exceedingly relieved you rejected his offer.’

  Dorothea jumped up and began to pace the room. ‘You know what a gossip Walsham is,’ she said. ‘And a vicious tongue, too. Of course, I told him he must be mistaken, that it could not have been you, but the damage is done. I have just come back from Bond Street, where more than one acquaintance stopped me to ask after you. Lady Mattishall even asked me outright if you had eloped!’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said Serena faintly.

  ‘It is time you were seen out and about,’ Henry told her. ‘You must drive out with Dorothea, then at least we may stop the rumours that you have run off. And there is one stroke of luck,’ he continued. ‘Walsham was unable to name the fellow at the Swan. If I had dined at home rather than going to White’s that night, we might have said I was escorting you. As it is, we must continue to deny that it was you at Hitchin that night.’

  ‘Which the Downings will not believe,’ cut in his wife, still pacing.

  ‘Elizabeth assured me in her letter that they have not said anything,’ added Serena.

  ‘Which is quite true,’ Henry agreed. ‘And in time the rumours will be forgotten.’

  ‘In time!’ Dorothea shook her head. ‘Serena is very nearly one-and-twenty. By next Season she will be considered an old maid. I vow I am ready to give up on her!’

  ‘Perhaps you should. I know I have disgraced myself, and I am very sorry for it.’

  ‘Well, one thing is plain now, madam.’ Dorothea stopped her perambulations and glared at Serena. ‘There is no possibility of your marrying well!’

  Henry protested mildly, ‘Come, come, my dear. Serena still has a considerable fortune. Someone will have her.’

  Serena winced. ‘I will not marry a man merely to save my reputation,’ she said. ‘I am already resigned to remaining single.’

  Dorothea’s eyes narrowed. ‘Pray do not think we will allow you to set up your own establishment. What would people say about us then?’

  ‘They would most likely say I was an eccentric. And they would pity you most sincerely.’

  ‘It is not to be thought of,’ declared Henry. ‘Once you come into your own money at five-and-twenty it will be a different matter, but at the moment you are far too young to consider such a thing.’r />
  ‘Perhaps I could go and live with Russ and Molly at Compton Parva.’

  Henry shook his head. ‘It will not do. You are known there and I have no doubt they will have heard all about this little episode, even in such an out-of-the-way place. I have written to Russ, assuring him it is all nonsense and that there is no need for him to come to town.’

  ‘No indeed,’ agreed Dorothea. ‘His concern must be for his wife. I believe the birth was a difficult one and she is not yet recovered. They will not be able to look after Serena.’

  Serena’s chin went up. ‘I do not expect anyone to look after me. I merely need somewhere to live.’

  ‘To hide, more like.’

  ‘Call it that, if you wish, Dorothea.’ Serena rose. ‘I will drive out with you in the carriage, so that people may see I am in town, but please do not ask me to accompany you to any balls or parties. I do not feel ready to meet anyone just yet. Perhaps you could say I am recuperating,’ she suggested. ‘That would give you an excuse to ship me off to the country.’

  ‘It would, my dear, if that is really what you want, but let us discuss it again later. Off you go now and change your gown for dinner. We will say no more about it tonight.’ Henry waited until Serena had left the room, then he said slowly, ‘I do not like it, Dorothea. She has lost her spirit.’

  ‘That can only be a good thing. The girl was growing far too wild.’

  ‘I grant you she was always a little hot to hand, but this new meekness—I cannot be easy. Perhaps we should call the doctor.’

  ‘What, and have him quack her with expensive and unnecessary medicines? No, leave her be, Henry. I have long considered that she thinks far too highly of herself. This incident with Forsbrook has brought her down to earth. I have no doubt she will recover and, in the meantime, we should seek out a husband for her. With her fortune it should not be impossible to find an acceptable match, despite this scandal.’

  ‘I agree. There are several fellows who would take her, I am sure.’

  ‘Then we should see to it, while she is so biddable.’

  Henry shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Dorothea—would it be right to persuade her to tie the knot when she is not herself? When her spirits return she might regret it.’

  His wife cast him an impatient glance. ‘That will be her husband’s problem, not ours.’

  * * *

  Quinn scooped up the small pile of letters from his desk and glanced at each one. Nothing from Bruton Street.

  ‘Confound it, what do you expect?’ he growled to himself as he threw the letters back down.

  It was nearly two weeks since Hambridge had carried Serena away from Melham Court, but the fellow was unlikely to write and thank him for his part in rescuing his ward and it would be highly improper for Serena to do so. Discretion was the watchword and it would be foolhardy for any mention of the matter to be committed to paper.

  He reached for a pen and began to trim the nib. He should forget all about it. After all, he wanted no thanks for what he had done. But the image of Serena haunted his dreams. Not the cowering figure he had come upon at the Swan, but Serena as he had seen her in the gardens of Grindlesham House, head up, eyes sparkling with indignation. The same eyes that had gazed upon him so trustingly as he coaxed her from her bath.

  His hands stilled at the memory. He had subdued the thought at the time, but she had reminded him of a painting he had seen as a very young man: another Titian Venus, but this time the goddess was rising from the sea. Shy, vulnerable and utterly enchanting.

  Quinn shifted in his chair. Enough of this. He had no interest in Serena Russington. She had foolishly put herself in danger and he had acted as any gentleman would, nothing more. The Hambridges would look after her and quell any gossip, so there was no point in Quinn worrying about the chit. But he was damned if he could forget her!

  He heard voices in the hall and the study door opened.

  ‘Tony!’ Quinn jumped up and came around the desk, holding out his hand to his friend. ‘I thought you were staying in town for another month at least.’

  ‘That had been my intention. Lottie remains in town—she has engagements that she cannot break, but I confess my curiosity got the better of me.’ Sir Anthony Beckford gestured towards his buckskins and glossy Hessians. ‘I am on my way now to Prior’s Holt, but thought I would stop off and try some of the claret you were boasting of.’

  ‘By all means. Come along to the drawing room and I will have Dunnock fetch some.’

  In very little time they were sitting comfortably, a decanter on the small table between them and a glass of ruby-red wine in hand.

  Quinn watched in amusement as his friend made a show of sniffing the wine and taking a sip before nodding appreciatively.

  ‘Excellent. This came in through Bristol, you say? I must put my man on to it.’

  ‘Send him to Averys and they will see to it.’ Quinn shot a glance at his friend. ‘But you did not come here merely to taste my wine. What is it that has whetted your curiosity?’

  ‘Why you, my friend.’ Tony lifted his glass to the light and twisted the stem between his fingers. ‘I came to discover for myself if you have taken a mistress.’

  The calm atmosphere of the drawing room became suddenly tense. Quinn schooled his expression into one of amusement.

  ‘What an absurd idea. You know I am not in the petticoat line.’

  ‘That is what I thought, but the rumours in town made me wonder.’

  Quinn put down his glass. The way his hand had been tightening around it he was afraid he might snap the stem.

  ‘Then perhaps you would be good enough to tell me just what it is that you have heard.’

  ‘I was at White’s a couple of nights back and Walsham came in. You may not know him. Something of a mushroom, but with connections enough to give him entrée into most places in town. He strolls up to Hambridge and asks after his sister. Now, in general such a remark would pass unnoticed, but a sudden hush fell over the room, and Hambridge looked so put out there was no ignoring it.’ Tony settled himself more comfortably in his chair. ‘Walsham did not leave it there, however. He pulls out his snuff box and says, in the coolest way imaginable, “Your good lady told me I was mistaken in thinking Miss Russington was at the Swan and it must be so, because Jack Downing says she cried off from Vauxhall that very same evening, pleading ill health. I trust it is not serious, no one’s seen her for well over a week.” Well, by this time Hambridge is frowning like a thundercloud. He jumped to his feet, exclaiming that he had no patience with all the tattling busybodies who try to make mischief out of nothing. Then he stalked off. Quite out of character, I thought. He is generally such a dull dog.’

  ‘And this is all?’ Quinn refilled their glasses. ‘My dear Tony, I am surprised at you, to be taking note of such a trifle.’

  ‘And I should not have thought any more about it, had I not gone to Tattersall’s yesterday. You will recall there was a very pretty Arab mare I had my eye on, but that is by the by. I ran into Sir Timothy Forsbrook there, you see. He was selling his greys and mighty cut up about it, too. Blamed it all on a woman who had dashed his hopes. He was in his cups and happy to tell anyone who would listen how the mysterious Miss R. had persuaded him to run away with her on May Day, only to abandon him at Hitchin for a much richer prize.’ Tony’s shoulders lifted a fraction. ‘The richer prize was not named, of course, but I remembered you had travelled to Melham Court that evening, and would have passed the Swan.’ He paused. ‘It made me wonder—’

  ‘Hell and damnation!’

  At Quinn’s violent exclamation Tony’s casual manner deserted him and he sat bolt upright.

  ‘Never say that there is any truth in this, Quinn!’

  ‘No. Yes!’ Quinn jumped to his feet. ‘Has anyone else connected me with this affair?’

  ‘Not yet, although at the clubs last ni
ght they were already beginning to link Forsbrook’s juicy tale to Walsham’s gossip. ’Tis commonly believed now that the lady is Serena Russington, Hambridge’s ward.’

  Cursing softly, Quinn went over to the window. He said over his shoulder, ‘I stopped at the Swan on my way home. Forsbrook was there and I...er...removed Miss Russington from his company. She was unharmed, save for a few bruises, but it was already gone midnight so I was obliged to bring her here.’ No need to go into detail, Quinn. ‘I put her into Mrs Talbot’s care until the Hambridges could collect her the next day. As for her persuading Forsbrook to elope, I believe it was quite the reverse. He tricked her into accompanying him.’

  ‘Then why hasn’t Hambridge called him out?’

  ‘He thought it would cause the sort of scandal he was anxious to avoid.’ Quinn’s jaw tightened. ‘I agreed with him, at the time. I thought Forsbrook would be too embarrassed by what had happened to blab about it. Now I see we were wrong.’ He turned back and looked at his friend. ‘Well there, at least, I will be able to act!’

  ‘The devil you will. Confound it, Quinn, you are so rarely in town your mere presence there sets the ton by the ears. If you come back to call the fellow out, I won’t be the only one to remember you live within a stone’s throw of Hitchin. No, no, you keep well out of it, my friend. No need to become involved.’

  ‘I am already involved,’ Quinn reminded him, a trifle grimly. ‘And the devil of it is that Crawshaw met her here, the following morning.’

  ‘The vicar! That’s a dashed nuisance.’

  ‘Aye. I had no choice but to introduce him. So far he hasn’t said anything, but...’ Quinn let the words hang and a brooding silence fell over the room.

  At last Tony gave a sigh. ‘Well, Crawshaw is a good fellow and not one to gossip. I suppose your servants know the whole?’

  ‘How could they not? I can rely upon Dunnock and Mrs Talbot to be discreet, but some of the younger ones may let it slip.’