Susie Darcy's Tenacious Nature Read online

  ‘He’ll know Covington’s steward though, I shouldn’t wonder,’ Dawlish said. ‘In my experience, stewards in the same locality know one another well and frequently compare notes. Dare say the steward will be the one who deals with the forger. Covington won’t risk being seen in his company.’

  James took a moment to think the matter through. ‘The Covingtons live close to Denton, close to us here, in fact, and Porter was seen in conversation with Bevan in Denton.’ He grinned at Dawlish. ‘Looks as though you’re going to have to find occupations in the village all day, Dawlish.’

  ‘How can we be sure anything will happen today?’ Susie asked.

  ‘We can’t, miss.’ It was Dawlish who answered her. ‘But Tyrell ain’t always completely bone-headed and he makes a fair point on this occasion. If Porter is in league with Bevan or Covington’s steward, he will want to make contact today and pass on whatever en-dits he picked up at last night’s soiree. If he is not, he will try to feather his own nest by gathering definitive information to take back to your father.’

  Susie conceded the point with a nod. ‘I suppose he will.’

  ‘You are wondering how Dawlish will be able to keep watch on the village and Covington’s property without being seen, I expect.’ James laughed and slapped Dawlish’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. He can make himself invisible when it suits his purpose. He is also adept at befriending every person in the tavern’s taproom, if needs be.’

  Dawlish grinned. ‘I’m prepared to make that sacrifice, and precious little thanks I get for it.’

  James sent his friend a droll look and then turned to Susie again. ‘Fear not, if there is anything untoward happening in Denton we shall know about it by the end of the day.’

  ‘Either that or I’ll have a thick head to show for my efforts,’ Dawlish added cheerfully.

  ‘And whilst Dawlish is spending my money on ale, I shall be paying a call upon Sir Robert.’

  ‘Not dressed like that you won’t,’ Dawlish replied, chortling.

  ‘Bring Miss Darcy’s horse round,’ James instructed Dawlish. ‘She ought to be on her way.’

  ‘Right you are.’

  It was very quiet in the room suddenly without the distraction provided by Dawlish. James was acutely aware of Susie’s nervousness, of the air of suppressed expectation that sprang up as their gazes locked and held. The desire to pull her into his arms and kiss away the confusion swirling in the depths of her wary eyes was compelling but James found the strength from somewhere to resist the impulse. The spectre of Beatrice loomed large between them and it wouldn’t be fair to excite expectations he was in no position to fulfil.

  Duty had never seemed more onerous to James than it did at that moment. He wanted to explain but he lacked the eloquence to make her understand the ingrained sense of obligation he felt towards his father. James would never adequately be able to repay him for the sacrifices he’d made to save James’s hide. Even if his father was not…well, his father, a gentleman worthy of the name could never turn his back on such a debt. Spoiling his father’s most dearly held wish to help struggling artists reach their full potential would be a sorry way to repay him. For the pater to achieve that ambition, he required Fleming’s patronage, which would only continue to be forthcoming if James married Beatrice. Ergo, James was not at liberty to please himself. It was as simple and unequivocal as that.

  James was almost relieved when the sound of hooves on the cobbles outside the front door broke the tense silence.

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘You had best get back to Pemberley before you are missed.’

  ‘I am going to call upon my friend Mirabelle.’ Did James notice a brief flash of disappointment pass through her expression when he ushered her towards the door instead of giving way to temptation and kissing her? ‘She lives close by and I frequently call in unannounced. No one will think anything of it and so I will not have to tell falsehoods when I am asked where I went.’

  That wasn’t precisely true but James refrained from setting her straight. He placed his hand on the small of her back, guided her from the room and opened the front door. Dawlish stood at the bottom of the steps, holding her mare’s head. Impulsively James swept her from her feet and lifted her into her horse’s saddle.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, somewhat breathlessly.

  Dawlish grinned at James as the two of them stood side by side and watched her ride away.

  ‘That’s the way the wind blows, is it?’ Dawlish asked.

  ‘You know better than that,’ James replied, unable to keep a note of regret out of his tone.

  ‘You don’t have to…’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ James’s sigh was loud and protracted. ‘You know as well as I do that there’s no profit in regrets.’

  ‘She’s a lively one.’ Dawlish said, raising his hand as Susie reached the gates and turned back to wave. ‘I thoroughly approve of her.’

  James sent him a droll look. ‘I’d best get myself dressed if I’m to catch Sir Robert,’ he said, turning back into the house.

  Chapter Nine

  Tobias happened to be in the stables when he heard orders being given for Susie’s mare to be saddled. Wondering where she could be going at such an early hour, and why she was up at all for that matter when he knew the party had gone on well past midnight, curiosity got the better of him. The early hour worked against him, making it impossible for him to follow her without being seen, but he knew where to position himself so that he would know which direction she took when she left the estate.

  When she emerged a short time later, looking neither left nor right as she passed the position when he sat concealed astride his own horse, she took the road that led to Denton at a brisk trot. Porter gave her a head start and followed a safe distance behind. He risked getting a little closer when she came to the main village street. The residents had long since been up and about their business and Tobias blended in. Several people greeted Susie with doffed caps and polite words. She acknowledged them all but did not, as Tobias half expected her to do, stop at any of the shops, or call at one of the cottages situated at the edge of the village that was occupied by an old lady Susie often visited.

  He fell back again when she left the village behind her. She seemed nervous now and glanced over her shoulder several times, making it necessary for Tobias to conceal himself behind a trundling farm cart. By the time he felt it safe to pass it, he thought at first that he had lost her. Then he realised he had not and cursed when she turned her mare into the driveway of the house rented by Tyrell.

  ‘Confound it!’ he yelled, thumping the pummel of his saddle so hard that his horse reared up in fright.

  He soothed the gelding, wishing he could smother his own anger with a gentle hand and calm words. He felt shocked, appalled and disappointed at this astonishing display of wantonness. At her betrayal of everything she stood for in Tobias’s mind. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he would have refused to believe it and knocked any man to the ground who might dare to make such a suggestion. He called himself all sorts of fool for having placed Susie on a pedestal of perfection, only to see its feet kicked away. No one was that flawless, life had taught him at least that much, and women—all women—could be tempted by charm and the possibility of a little forbidden excitement.

  He had thought Susie was the exception but it seemed she was one of the worst offenders. She had every advantage any female could wish for, but it wasn’t enough for her. Facts had to be faced. Tobias tried to invent excuses for her, plausible alternative explanations for this highly unwise visit, but he was deluding himself. There was only one reason why she would call at the residence of a single gentleman at such an early hour—at any hour—unescorted. Jealousy began to course through Tobias in virulent waves as he muttered every combination of curses words he could think of, disappointed and disgusted at the extent of Susie’s immorality.

  ‘That’s what comes of forming a friendship with a woman,’ he grumbled aloud.

&nbs
p; He hadn’t planned on becoming close with Miss Darcy. Tobias didn’t believe in close friendships, or depending upon anyone other than himself. But Susie’s open, friendly nature and the manner in which she treated him as an equal had caused him to relax his guard.

  And slowly, quite without his being aware of it until it was too late to turn the tide, he had developed feelings for her. Feelings of deep emotional investment that could so easily develop into love. It was as laughable as it was inappropriate. Tobias was habitually pursued by females, never the other way around. Besides, Susie was an unmarried chit from an impeccable family who would never entertain the only sort of dalliance he ever entered into. Commitment was not for him. Not that he would have attempted to compromise Susie, even if he had any expectations of success. She was an innocent, which was part of the attraction, he supposed. She was also the antithesis of the depths he’d been forced to plummet these past years.

  And yet…Tobias couldn’t deny the evidence before him. She had to be here in order to offer herself to the bounder. Part of him wanted to ride to her rescue and plant the presumptuous cove a facer. Common sense prevailed. By coming here alone she was making it plainly apparent that she had no wish to be rescued and wouldn’t welcome his interference.

  So Tobias did nothing, other than to sit astride his horse, watching the house and waiting for her to emerge. He ought to leave but couldn’t bring himself to move, so the agony endured and his mood blackened along with each slow second that passed. Aware of the violence he was capable of when his temper got the better of him, Tobias had disciplined himself to keep his emotions under tight control since taking up his position at Pemberley. But there were some situations that defied his best efforts. This was one such and he slowly steamed as he thought of ever more creative ways to punish Tyrell for his audaciousness.

  After half an hour the front door opened and Susie appeared. Tyrell, damn him, was with her—in shirt sleeves and bare feet. Any lingering hopes that he had somehow got it wrong and, impossible though it seemed, she had simply stopped by to deliver a message from Pemberley, dissipated. He ground his jaw when Tyrell placed his hands on Susie’s waist and lifted her into her saddle. He heard the lilting sound of her voice drifting towards him on the breeze as she thanked him. Thanked him for what?

  ‘Don’t be an ass,’ he said aloud. ‘It’s obvious.’

  Two men watched her ride out of sight. Two of them! Tobias shook his head, wondering what he should do with the information now in his possession. It was enough to buy Darcy’s silence and make Tobias a rich man. Not so long ago he would have jumped at such an opportunity for revenge. Now he was unsure if he could stoop so low. He turned his horse and made sure he was out of sight when Susie rode past him. Then he made his way into Denton slowly, deep in thought, still unsure what he planned to do. That decision would have to wait until he was in a less agitated state of mind.

  Besides, he had estate business to transact and an appointment to keep later that morning.

  An appointment with Bairstow, Covington’s steward.

  ᴥᴥᴥ

  James attended to his ablutions in a dilatory fashion, his mind occupied with Susie’s unexpected visit, trying to decide if she had been more foolhardy than brave to have undertaken it. She would have been better advised to send a note and he would have attended her at Pemberley. Sending single gentlemen notes was fractionally less compromising than paying them unescorted visits. In undertaking the visit, it didn’t seem to have occurred to her that she could easily have been noticed—and recognised—riding up to his house alone.

  Heaven help him if that had happened! There would be hell to pay.

  Setting all thoughts of Susie aside, he mounted his horse a short time later and headed for Sir Robert’s abode, unable to decide what reason to give for calling until he had gauged Sir Robert’s reaction to his unexpected visit. If he was permitted admittance. A guilty man—a man with something to hide—would strive to avoid him and that would tell him all he needed to know about Sir Robert’s culpability. But upon arrival he was immediately shown into that gentleman’s library.

  ‘This is indeed an unexpected pleasure, sir,’ he said affably, rising from behind a large desk with an open, friendly expression and outstretched hand. ‘Some refreshment?’

  James accepted and the two men made small talk until coffee had been delivered and Sir Robert poured for them both with a rock steady hand that betrayed no signs of nerves. He was clearly intrigued to know why James had called but too polite to ask if there was a particular reason for it. Everyone supposed that James had come to the county in search of solitude in which to paint. By the time the footman who had delivered the coffee withdrew, James had decided that Sir Robert knew nothing of the man Bevan’s nefarious activities and that it would be in his best interests to be frank with him.

  ‘I dare say you are wondering what brings me to your door.’

  ‘Indeed, sir, you are always welcome but I will not deny that I am curious. I sense a purpose about you. A reason for seeking me out. I cannot think what it could possibly be but rest assured, I am entirely at your service.’

  Warning his affable host to prepare himself for a shock, James got straight to the point. To say that Sir Robert was astounded would be a gross understatement. No one, James decided, could possibly feign such indignation and any lingering doubts about Sir Robert’s involvement with the forger faded away at that point.

  ‘Upon my word, sir, I do not know what to say. Indeed I do not.’ His bushy brows drew together, giving the appearance of a caterpillar crawling across his brow. ‘Bevan, you say. A guest three months ago. Perhaps my wife would recall…I cannot myself place the man. He is not a direct acquaintance, so he must be a friend of a friend.’

  ‘I would prefer it if you did not tell your wife of this business, Sir Robert. I am sure she is discreet but still, it is of the utmost delicacy and the fewer people who are aware, the less chance there is of word leaking out.’

  ‘Of course. Of course.’ Sir Robert waved a hand. ‘The ladies, bless ’em, sometimes can’t help gossiping. It’s the way they’re made.’

  James suppressed a smile. ‘As you say.’

  Sir Robert’s entire body jerked and a flare of anger darkened his eyes. ‘I hope you don’t imagine I was aware of any of this.’

  ‘I won’t lie to you,’ James replied calmly. ‘I have been forced to consider every possibility, but the moment I made your acquaintance last night I was convinced I’d got it wrong. Were it not so, I would not be here now, discussing the matter with you.’

  Some of the rigidity left Sir Robert’s posture. ‘Well then, what’s to be done?’

  ‘Do you keep a record of the guests who stay with you?’ James was aware that in most large houses notes were kept against the guest’s name regarding to their habits, whether they travelled with a maid or manservant, if there were dishes they preferred not to eat and so forth. It made it easier for the servants to prepare for future visits.

  ‘By gad, sir, so we do! So we do.’

  He rang the bell and asked the butler who responded to it to fetch the visitors’ book. With that tome now in front of him, Sir Robert placed a pair of spectacles on the end of his rather long nose and flicked through the pages, muttering to himself.

  ‘I have it!’ he cried triumphantly, stabbing at a line in the book with his index finger.

  James stood and moved to Sir Robert’s shoulder, peering at the entry in question. The name John Bevan was scrawled in a barely legible hand. Surprisingly little else was recorded about him, other than that he didn’t travel with a valet and had no specific dietary requirements. Presumably the housekeeper, whose duty it would be to keep the records, either didn’t consider him to be a gentleman—servants could be more judgemental than the masters they served—or had no reason to suppose that he would call again. James found the housekeeper’s brevity on the subject of John Bevan highly illuminating. ‘Ah, but it doesn’t tell us much.’

&n
bsp; ‘Are you well acquainted with the other people who stayed at the same time? It appears that they were with you for a week. Perhaps Bevan was a friend of theirs.’

  ‘Let me see.’ Sir Robert’s glasses had slipped and he pushed them impatiently back into place. ‘Of course!’ He sat back and smiled triumphantly. ‘I remember Bevan now. Mousy little man, so he was, but perfectly affable and polite. He was travelling with the Nesbits. An elderly couple, friends of my wife’s. They reside in London but were heading northwards to visit friends in the Scottish borders. Bevan is Mrs Nesbit’s nephew and seemed very concerned for her welfare. She was unwell, you see, and Bevan was the one who asked if they could trespass upon our hospitality for longer than the two days originally intended, until his aunt had been restored to health.’ Sir Robert grunted. ‘Perhaps now I see why. He wanted to be here for as long as it took him to transact his other business. But still, I don’t see how he could have relied upon Mrs Nesbit being taken ill, just when he needed her to be.’

  ‘Quite so, Sir Robert,’ James replied tactfully, even though he was aware there were plenty of ways to cause a person temporary incapacitation if one knew what one was about.

  ‘What do you intend to do, Tyrell?’

  ‘I wish I knew.’ James spread his hands. ‘Do you know where the Nesbits are now?’

  ‘Back in London, I would imagine. Their visit occurred several weeks ago and I know they don’t like to stray far from home for too long. I can ask my wife.’

  ‘If you could find a way to do so without arousing her curiosity, I should be obliged to you.’

  Sir Robert waved a hand. ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘Are you aware of Bevan’s occupation?’

  Sir Robert shrugged. ‘I assumed he didn’t have one. He dressed and spoke like a gentleman.’ But your servants saw through that ruse. ‘If I thought about it at all, I suppose I assumed he had private means.’ He scowled. ‘I didn’t realise those means were procured in such a dishonest fashion.’