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‘I’ll be glad to see her again.’
‘And she’s agreed that you can stay as long as you want.’
‘What do you mean?’ The nostalgic feeling evaporated at once. ‘I thought we were only staying a week.’
‘Well...’ Percy squirmed in his seat. ‘The truth is, London’s expensive. I can’t afford lodgings for us both any more. And Charles thinks it’s more appropriate for you to live with Aunt Sophoria anyway.’
‘Charles thinks that?’
‘Yes, but I agree. I should have seen the propriety of it sooner.’
‘So you mean this—all of this—was his idea?’
‘I suppose so, though it really just goes to show how much he cares for you. He’s a capital fellow. You know Father thought so, too.’
‘Father never suggested I marry him! And you know how Mother felt. She didn’t even like being in the same room with him if she could help it. She always took me away, too.’
‘Oh, you women and your prejudices!’ Percy rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘All I know is that he’s been very good to me this past year. He’s helped me out a lot with expenses.’
‘You owe him money?’
‘Just a little, though you needn’t look so disapproving. It’s not easy supporting both of us. I know Father didn’t mean to leave us in such a sorry financial state, but he did. I had to pay the bills somehow.’
‘You can’t blame Father.’ Ianthe stiffened defensively. ‘You know he was heartbroken after Mother died.’
‘He was irresponsible, letting all his investments go to ruin and leaving me to carry the burden.’
‘Burden?’ She flinched. Was that all she was now?
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ Percy at least had the decency to look shame-faced. ‘All I’m saying is that we need to be practical. We don’t have the income to carry on as we are. Marriage is the only solution for a woman in your position and as far as I can see you’re not overwhelmed with suitors. That’s why I brought you here to see Charles.’
Ianthe felt a roiling sensation deep in the pit of her stomach, something between fear and disgust. She’d had her suspicions about the Baronet’s intentions—had made her own feelings on the subject abundantly clear, or so she’d thought—but she still hadn’t expected him to stoop so low.
This was all a trick. No, worse than that, a trap. Sir Charles had manipulated Percy into bringing her here, cutting her off from her home and friends, isolating her in a remote northern town with only an impoverished maiden aunt for company, probably assuming that she’d be forced to marry him.
Well, she wouldn’t be manipulated so easily. There had to be another alternative.
‘I’ll find employment.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. After what happened last time?’
‘That wasn’t my fault!’
‘So you keep saying. It’s just a good job the family were discreet or your reputation would have been ruined. I’m only glad Charles didn’t hear of it.’
Ianthe folded her arms mutinously, heartily wishing the opposite. ‘It’s not likely to happen again.’
‘No.’ Percy’s gaze swept over her critically. ‘I suppose not. But if getting a job doesn’t work out, what then? You’ll have nothing to fall back on. Marrying Charles is your best option, you must see that. You’ll have money and protection and children, too, I suppose.’
‘Children?’ She spluttered the word in horror. The way Sir Charles looked at her was bad enough. The thought of him touching her made her skin crawl. As for having children...she wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed, but she definitely didn’t want to find out.
From a practical perspective, however, Percy was right—the Baronet was her best option. Life as a governess had been far more dispiriting than she’d expected and, after what had happened in Bournemouth, the thought of finding another position made her stomach twist with anxiety. If she could find another position... It had been hard enough the first time and it wasn’t as if she could ask for references! If word of what had happened there got out, she’d be lucky ever to find employment again.
Besides, no matter how hard she tried, how severely she dressed or how distantly she behaved, nothing she did ever seemed to deter Sir Charles. He’d always looked at her strangely, ever since she was a child and he’d introduced himself as an old friend of her mother’s, but since her death those looks seemed to have become more intense than ever. He’d gone abroad for a few months after the funeral, but since he’d come back, around the same time she’d returned from Bournemouth, he seemed to be always around Percy, always there, always watching her. There seemed to be no escaping him these days. She was tired of resisting, tired of trying to hide. And if Percy owed him money...surely it was her duty to help repay the debt, no matter what the cost to herself?
‘This must be Rillington.’ Percy leapt up as the train slowed to a halt. ‘I’m going to get a newspaper. All this arguing is giving me a headache.’
‘Wait!’ She grabbed his hand as he passed by, making one last desperate appeal. ‘There’s just something about him. I can’t explain it...’
‘Well, whatever it is, it shouldn’t bother you for long. Charles must be fifty at least.’
‘Percy!’ She dropped his hand at once. ‘You shouldn’t say such things! Someone might hear you.’
‘Oh, I can’t win!’ He flung the compartment door open and jumped out. ‘I won’t be long. Just promise me that you’ll think about it and be sensible.’
‘If I do, will you promise to tell me the truth from now on?’
‘Of course!’ He was already striding away. ‘Just remember, thirty years! You’ll be a rich widow soon enough.’
Ianthe glared after him, seized with the impulse to follow, to grab her bag, leap down onto the platform and run away. But where would she go? Percy and her aunt were the only relatives she had left and now it seemed even they were conspiring against her. She fell back against her seat, watching her brother’s retreating back, silently resenting his freedom. He never worried about how he behaved or how indiscreet he sounded. He never worried about censure at all. How could the rules for men and women be so different? At least no one else had been around to overhear his last remark.
She gave a sudden guilty start, sitting bolt upright again as she met the steely gaze of the man sitting opposite. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t so much as lifted his head, but he was wide awake now, looking straight at her with an expression of brooding, almost ferocious intensity. This time there was no mistaking the frown on his stern features. He looked furious.
‘You’re awake.’ She found herself stating the obvious.
‘As you can see.’
She blinked, taken aback by the scathing tone of his deep, northern-accented voice. He was leaning back in his seat without making even the slightest attempt to sit up, as if she were so far beneath his contempt that there was no need for propriety, the look in his eyes even more insulting than his manner. She felt her mouth turn dry. Besides Sir Charles, no man had looked at her so intently for a long time. In her new, drab garb she’d started to think herself almost invisible to the opposite sex, but now this stranger’s pale gaze seemed to bore straight through her.
Quickly, she glanced out of the window, but there was no sign of Percy. Typical of him to be indiscreet and then leave her to clear up the mess! Clearly this man had overheard some, if not all, of their conversation after all. Now it looked as though he were about to rebuke her for it. Well, she was in no mind for a lecture, especially not today.
‘Sir.’ She lifted her chin up defensively. ‘I beg you to forget anything you might have overheard. It was a private conversation.’
‘Then perhaps you ought not to have held it in a public carriage.’
‘A gentleman ought not to eavesdrop.’
‘I could hardly help it. I should think the whole locomotive could hear your brother’s voice.’
She felt her cheeks flush scarlet with mortification. Even if that were true, which she was afraid it might be, he ought not to mention it. What kind of a gentleman was he?
‘My brother shouldn’t have been so indiscreet. But as you doubtless heard, I already reprimanded him.’
‘Was that a reprimand?’ Grey eyes regarded her mockingly. ‘It sounded as if you were more afraid of having your little scheme overheard.’
Scheme? She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. Now that she thought of it, she’d only told Percy to be quiet. She hadn’t contradicted him at all. No wonder this man assumed the worst, though he still had no right to chastise her. They hadn’t been introduced and she was a lady sitting on her own. They shouldn’t even be talking, let alone arguing.
She folded her hands primly in her lap. ‘I do not have a scheme, sir.’
‘Except to marry a man you dislike for his money and then wish for his imminent demise. What would you call that but a scheme?’
‘I’d say you know nothing about it. And since you care so little for good manners, I might add that appearances can be deceptive. You, for example, look like a gentleman, yet you very clearly are not.’
‘Perhaps not, though I’ve been called far worse, I assure you.’
‘I don’t doubt it. But my affairs are none of your business.’
‘On the contrary.’ A shadow darkened his face. ‘I think it every man’s business to know that women like you exist.’
‘Women like me?’ An icy chill raced down her spine. What did that mean? How could he know what kind of woman she was? How could he possibly tell?
‘Schemers. Deceivers. Women who say one thing to a man’s face and another behind his back.’ He let his gaze drop contemptuously, as if he were studying her from head to toe and finding her wanting. ‘You don’t even have the decency to speak well of your quarry. At least I know what I am. You still think yourself a lady, I suppose?’
He turned his face away, staring out of the window as she gazed into thin air, speechless with shock. How was it possible? After everything she’d done to alter her appearance, to alter herself, how could he still look at her and call her a schemer?
She caught her breath, struggling against the old familiar feelings of shame and self-loathing. She’d been called a schemer once before, had tried to plead her innocence then, too, not that it had made any difference. Was everything they’d said about her in Bournemouth true, then? Was there something so bad, so inherently corrupt in her nature that even a stranger could see it?
No! Her mind resisted the idea. And even if there was, it wasn’t intentional. She wasn’t the one scheming against Sir Charles. She didn’t want anything to do with him at all. He was the one scheming against her! And how dare this stranger speak to her so abominably, as if she were the most shame-faced fortune-hunter he’d ever laid eyes on. Whoever he was, he had no right to judge!
‘Yes,’ she began angrily, ‘I do call myself a lady. At least as much as you’re a gentleman. And if you’d been paying closer attention or given me the slightest benefit of the doubt, you’d know that I have no desire and certainly no intention of marrying Sir Charles!’
‘Sir Charles?’ The stranger turned his head sharply at the end of her speech, having continued to stare out of the window for most of it. ‘You mean Charles Lester?’
Ianthe bit her tongue, realising her mistake a few seconds too late. Was it possible that they hadn’t mentioned his identity earlier? No, now that she thought of it, Percy always referred to him as Charles, while she avoided his name altogether. Not that there was any point in denying it now.
She nodded cautiously as the stranger ran a hand through his hair, muttering something indistinguishable under his breath.
‘Do you know him, sir?’
‘We’re acquainted.’
‘Oh.’
She waited, hardly knowing whether to feel guilty or relieved. For once, it seemed as though Percy’s behaviour would have consequences. If this man were acquainted with Sir Charles, then doubtless he’d tell him everything they’d just said. On the other hand, embarrassing as it was, it would solve her dilemma. After such a public condemnation, the Baronet would probably never want to see her again.
Perhaps it hadn’t been such a terrible mistake after all...
‘In that case...’ the stranger leaned forward suddenly, resting his forearms on his knees as he bent closer towards her ‘...I believe I ought to retract my last comments. I overheard half a conversation and reacted badly. I believe I came in somewhere around the time you were denouncing your brother as pompous and then I could hardly intrude without embarrassing you.’ He frowned, as if admitting something against his will. ‘But it was wrong of me, I ought to have announced myself. I wasn’t trying to listen, but your brother’s last words...’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘I apologise unreservedly.’
Ianthe blinked in bewilderment, stunned by such a marked transformation. The stranger’s voice was still terse, but the ferocious scowl and derisive curl of his lip were gone, as if the focus of his anger had simply shifted elsewhere. What had happened? A moment ago he’d seemed to despise the very sight of her and now he was apologising? The only difference was that he’d learnt the identity of her suitor.
The realisation was distinctly unsettling.
‘You have a poor opinion of Sir Charles then?’ She hardly dared ask.
‘None that I’d care to repeat.’
‘Under the circumstances, I believe I have a right to know.’
He shook his head, looking out of the window with a brooding expression. ‘As I said, we’re only acquaintances. Most of what I know is second-hand and I don’t care for gossip.’
‘You just called me a schemer, sir,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t see why you should start being reticent now.’
He looked back towards her then, his gaze newly appraising, and she found herself smoothing her hands over the folds of her dress self-consciously. What was he looking at? What was he thinking? Not that she cared what he thought of her, but the piercing gleam in those ironclad eyes disturbed her somehow. Still, if he thought he could avoid giving her an answer, he could think again...
She lifted her chin, determined not to yield. ‘If you want me to forgive you, then you might at least have the decency to tell me the truth.’
A single black eyebrow quirked upwards. ‘What does it matter if you intend to refuse him?’
‘It matters because my brother spends a great deal of time in his company. If there’s something unsuitable about Sir Charles, then I’d like to know about it.’
He nodded his head slightly, her words seeming to convince him at last. ‘Very well, then. I think he’s a lecher and a gambler, though rich enough, I grant you. I wouldn’t blame any woman for objecting to such an alliance.’
‘Even a woman like me?’
A muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Forgive me, I misspoke. My anger was mainly directed at your brother, but when I opened my eyes, he’d already gone. I’m afraid I took my temper out on the wrong person. I beg you to forget what I said.’
‘Forget?’ She stared at him incredulously. ‘You think it so easy to forget such words?’
‘No. Perhaps not.’ His gaze flickered momentarily. ‘My only excuse is that I’ve had a difficult morning. I felt provoked.’
‘And that’s supposed to be an apology?’ She gave a curt laugh. Difficult morning or not, he had no right to vent his bad temper on her. She already had Percy’s insults to contend with. She didn’t need some stranger’s as well!
‘It’s an explanation. You have to admit your brother’s words were callous in the extreme.’
‘My brother is young and sometimes foolish, but he wants what’s best for me.’
‘By forcing you to marry a man like Lester? Yes, he sounds an ideal brother.’
‘He’s not forcing me to do anything! You don’t know anything about it. Or us. Our financial circumstances are such that—’
She stopped mid-sentence, wondering why she was even bothering to argue. None of this was his business. There was no need to defend either herself or Percy. Except that she felt a strange desire to explain herself, if only to get the matter clear in her own mind.
‘My brother wishes to see me settled and financially secure, that’s all. Not that I’d expect a man of means to understand that.’
The stranger’s lips twisted scornfully. ‘Not all men are born with means. Some of us make our own way without selling our sisters.’
‘How dare you!’ She felt her temper snap, her voice rising with anger. How dare he suggest something so monstrous, as if Percy would barter her off simply to pay back his debts and free himself from the responsibility of providing for her! Even if there was a grain of truth to the accusation, she refused to believe that her brother was so heartless! He was just young, that was all...
‘I speak as I find.’
‘Then you’re no gentleman, sir. You’re a disgrace to the word! And I’d be grateful if you’d keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself.’
She swung away, chest heaving, half-relieved, half-dismayed by her outburst. Not that he didn’t deserve such censure, but if he was no gentleman, then she was certainly no lady to behave in such an unrestrained, uncontrolled manner. Maybe what they’d said about her in Bournemouth was true after all...
‘Tell me, is it marriage itself you object to or Sir Charles in particular?’
She turned back towards him, eyes widening in disbelief. Why was he still talking? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? He sounded infuriatingly calm, not the slightest bit offended by her insults.
